


A Walk of Shame

by jewboykahl



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Community College, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 77,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25850278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewboykahl/pseuds/jewboykahl
Summary: After losing multiple scholarships, Kyle is forced to attend a community college in a podunk town where he meets some ridiculous people and gets hurled into a whirlwind of new friendships and drama. Butters Stotch moved west from her home state to enjoy a newfound freedom to express herself at Millville Community College. Eric Cartman and his best friend, Kenny, found the closest, cheapest university possible to jump start their future careers, and were followed by a few other natives from their hometown of South Park.
Relationships: Clyde Donovan/Bebe Stevens, Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch, Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman
Comments: 69
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> some things about this story I would like to address is #1, i am absolutely not a transgender female (i'm nonbinary), but i wrote this a few years ago and i love the idea of representation and the exploration of butters character being trans. if any of the dialogue or narration surrounding the topic of her gender identity is inaccurate, problematic or offensive, please do not hesitate to tell me in the comments and i will fix it.  
> another thing is that there are some touchy topics in the chapters, so i'll provide additional trigger warnings before each chapter as to what will be in it.  
> thank u so much for reading and I hope u enjoy! <3

Community College was an evil term to Kyle Broflovski. Despite the fact that one of his favorite television shows portrayed a rag-tag group of friends who attended community college together, he was entirely certain his experience would be nothing like Jeff Winger’s. He was a straight A, all honors, valedictorian contender. The cheap, small-campus institution was no place for him—or, so he believed.

As he rolled his suitcase shamefully against the concrete walkway he watched slowly as stereotypes were fulfilled. Sitting on a bench outside was a couple who were both clad in hole-infested jeans and flowing t-shirts. The girl was wearing long braids (that Kyle thought must have been offensive), the boy’s quaffed hair had a stripe of blue through it, and they were painfully obviously in some kind of rare form. Just a bit further were two broad-shouldered boys with identical letter-men jackets yelling about football, and when he reached the building in which he was to pick up his room-key, there was a long line of bored looking teenagers with studious parents. Kyle let out a long, disappointed sigh. 

He was not characteristically a pretentious person, but he was honest with himself and his abilities. He was fit for a much higher level of education and was determined to work his ass off all year to prove to Stanford that he was more than capable of being a responsible and hard-working student worth their time. He had been so close to his life-long dream of attending California’s prestigious law academy and one drunken mistake caused it all to come crashing down.

So, he stood in line at Millville Community College. He tortured himself by imagining his best friend, Stan Marsh, feeling accomplished and in place at UCLA. Stan had received a full-ride to play football and he had never been more enthusiastic about school. Kyle was of course happy for his friend, but sad to be away from him and mortified that he would be left behind in the not nearly as glamorous state of Colorado.

One of the worst parts was the underwhelming proximity from his hometown of Fairplay. His mother would certainly be expecting him to make the hour drive every weekend. Being in sunny California would have been a golden opportunity to be away from his roots.

“Name?” The plump old lady droned from her position behind a fold-away table when he finally got to the front of the line.

“Kyle Broflovski,” the redhead answered.

She squinted at the long list of names on her clipboard, fingers skirting along the numerous keys lying in a tin box. She plucked out his assigned key and handed it to him along with a few informational sheets of paper. “You have until five o’clock to be moved in.”

He nodded and lifted the rolling suitcase’s handle. Dark, brown eyes skimmed the papers he was given, which outlined information on the cafeteria, curfews, penalties—all common sense stuff. He shuddered to think people actually needed _reminding_ of some of the rules outlined for dorm inhabitants, such as “Use only designated areas to dress”.

The campus seemed vaguely deserted on the chilly Tuesday afternoon. Kyle assumed this was due to the fact that the students were allotted the whole week to move in. He specifically chose a time that he knew both of his parents would be busy at work in order to drive up to college and settle in on his own. The last thing he needed was his mother organizing his new room for him and his father making snide comments about his failure to get into a better school (though Kyle knew he was inwardly relieved to be saving thousands of dollars).

After ten or so minutes, he found his way to his assigned dorm in Adams Hall. A glance at his room key’s tag told him that he would be living on the second floor. Kyle stopped a moment to scan his gaze along the wide, red-brick building surrounded by neatly manicured plants and shrubbery _. This is it,_ he thought, _my new home for two semesters. Awesome._

Kyle readjusted the ball cap over his thick curls and continued to trudge into the building. Pleasantly surprised at the crisp smell of air freshener and newly cleaned carpets, he wondered just how long the sanitary condition would remain with sixty teenage boys running in and out. He climbed the staircase to the second floor and used his provided key-card to advance to the corridor. He paced past several doors—an astonishing amount of which were clad with the Denver Broncos logo—before reaching his destination, room 13B.

Kyle wiggled the key into the lock and twisted the knob. He let out a breath when his dorm room as revealed. Thankfully, it was much bigger in person. Two identical twin beds were pushed against opposite walls and matching, grand wooden wardrobes were between them. Two desks, a small sink, a mini refrigerator, and storage cabinets were also provided. Choosing the side of the room closest to the window seemed to be the smarter option; that way his roommate would be denied control of the natural lighting.

The boy whom would be sharing this living space’s name was Clyde Donovan. He and Kyle messaged for a day or so when they discovered that they would see one another every day for a majority of the year. He seemed nice enough, and particularly eager to begin the college life. Oddly enough to Kyle, it also seemed as though he had been planning on attending the university for four years with references to trying out multiple sports teams. He also mentioned needless information about his girlfriend and other friends that would also be attending school with them—all of which were also from the tiny town called South Park, which was fairly close to Kyle’s hometown despite being surrounded by mountains. Kyle had heard that South Park natives were absolutely insane, and recalled easily defeating their absolutely horrendous high school debate team four years in a row. While their town’s appearances were essentially identical, South Park was somehow even smaller and more insignificant.

Despite the fact that having a group of South Park kids invading his classes was daunting given their reputation, he was slightly envious of Clyde’s ability to be among friends. The only fellow attendant of Millville from his graduating class was a kid named Tweek, who Kyle had barley known and rendered a total spaz.

It took Kyle nearly two hours to unpack his belongings and meticulously arrange. He was not a clean freak, although he had been accused of it on several occasions. He merely had a logical way of doing things and liked everything to be in its designated place. It was _normal_ , and he resented the fact that his gender made people automatically assume he should be a messy, unorganized slob.

Kyle tossed himself onto his newly made bed and took in a sigh of relief. He couldn’t believe he was finally settled into his college dorm and experienced no excitement or pleasure. This was not the environment he had always planned for and dreamed of, but he supposed it could have been worse.

“At least it’ll be easy.” He muttered to himself.

_

With a belly filled by a Taco Bell feast and an arm dragged down by glass bottles of soda, Kyle hummed to himself as he ascended to his dorm-room. He had been virtually alone for two days straight and enjoyed it a lot more than he imagined he would. Of course, enduring concerned phone calls from both his mom and Stan (who may as well have been an additional mother) was a breach in this new found freedom, but a majority of his solitude was spent organizing his belongings and exploring the campus. He knew where all his classes were and how long it would take to maneuver through the campus. The quiet of his vacant dorm-room was icing on the cake—he had not known true silence since his younger brother, Ike, was adopted when he was five.

But, like all good things, the bliss of solitary had come to an end. On returning to his room, he noticed that his door was propped ajar by the cloth-covered brick the university provided them. He double-checked the hard plastic sign above the doorframe to ensure that it was 13B. When he was not mistaken he realized that his roommate must have shown up.

Kyle bit a lip, unsure how to approach this situation. Should he knock even though it was technically his room? Should he barge in and pretend to be ignorant of the other boy’s presence? After a moment to think, he decided against both and placed his hand on the knob. He tentatively reentered the space and gained the attention of who he could only assume was Clyde.

Clyde granted Kyle a friendly, sweet smile on his arrival. His head was buzzed on the sides with a wave of brunette hair on top, nicely framing his boyish features. His large, blue eyes possessed a puppy-like innocence. “Hey! You must be Kyle. I’m Clyde.” He confirmed, taking strides towards Kyle and holding his hand out.

“Nice to meet you.” Kyle grinned and returned the gesture. Up close he noticed that Clyde was relatively tall considering his eyes were level with the bridge of his nose, and Kyle himself was not particularly short.

“This room look so much bigger in person, dude,” Clyde said, peering around the room. “Thank _God_.”

“That’s exactly what I thought when I saw it.” Kyle chuckled in agreement and bent down to place his beverages in the mini-fridge. He was a tiny bit anxious now with Clyde’s presence invading his routine. He only prayed that he wasn’t a total douchebag underneath the friendly façade.

“When did you get here?” Clyde asked as Kyle situated himself onto his mattress.

“Tuesday,” Kyle told him as he pulled his laptop onto his thighs. “It was dead but a lot of people moved in yesterday.”

Clyde nodded, taking a seat on his own bed. “I _wanted_ to come yesterday but my diva friend insisted that he needed an extra day to pack. Fucking procrastinator.”

Kyle smirked. “You came up with friends?”

“Oh, yeah. We decided to just car-pool since two of them don’t have cars, and the one that does just got it taken away. Actually, two of them live right down the hall. God only knows why they paid extra to be together, though. They’re at each other’s throats enough without sharing a bedroom together.” Clyde shook his head. Usually people who talked this much got on Kyle’s nerves, but there was an undeniable likability to Clyde; he seemed casual and genuine. He only hoped his friends were the same way, considering that he would more than likely have to deal with them at some point.

He quirked his head at Clyde, “Why would they get a room together if they don’t like each other?”

Clyde shook his head, “No, they like each other! Well… Kind of. They’re best friends, but Kenny kind of hates Eric. Then again, everyone hates Eric, but Kenny puts up with him the most.”

“I’m not following.” Kyle admitted.

Clyde huffed, smiling good-naturedly. “You’ll see what I mean when you meet them.”

“Alright,” Kyle laughed. “Are Kenny and Eric the only ones who came up with you?”

“Nah, my girlfriend and best friend came, too. She drove herself, though. And, of course, Bebe—my girlfriend—is in the girl’s place. And, Craig got put in a different dorm. Which totally sucks ass. I didn’t want to be stuck babysitting Cartman and Kenny, but oh well, you get what you get.”

Kyle perked his head to the side. “Cartman?”

“Eric, sorry. Everyone calls him by his last name.” Clyde clarified. “Sorry, I feel like I’m rambling. I do that when I’m... well, always. So, how is it up here?”

Kyle shrugged, “Alright, I guess. Kinda cold for August.”

Clyde scoffed humorously, “Welcome to Colorado, right?”

“Yeah,” Kyle rolled his eyes. “The campus is nice enough, though. And the shower curtains aren’t see-through.”

“Nice.” Clyde nodded.

Both boys’ attention was grabbed by the sudden appearance at the door. A tall kid with disheveled blond hair wore a face of pure exasperation. “Clyde, please switch me rooms.”

The brunette sighed through his nose. “What did he do?”

“Oh my god, he’s the worst,” groaned whom Kyle assumed was Clyde’s friend. He paced forward into the room. His gaze landed on Kyle before he continued to explain. His heart-shaped lips curved into a charming smirk, “Oh, hi, Clyde’s roomie. Kyle, right?”

The redhead nodded in confirmation. “I’m Kenny. Nice to meet you, gorgeous.”

Kyle’s eyebrows knit together and shock colored his face. Was that an actual _male_ flirting with him? That was something that had scarcely happened to him. Kenny was attractive, also, blessed with a movie star jawline and kind eyes, along with a button nose and freckles splattered across his blemish-free skin. The only thing remotely undesirable about his approach was the faded NASCAR t-shirt that had a hole in the armpit. Even then, he pulled it off, most likely due to his confident aura.

“As soon as we get in the fucking room, that stupid son a bitch claimed the fridge. How the hell do you claim a fridge?! And now he won’t let me have the window spot. That was my only request! I even told him he could put up his god-awful tapestry if he let me have,” Kenny ranted.

Kyle couldn’t decide if Clyde was annoyed or amused, “Tell him to suck your dick and get over it. There’s no way in hell I’m rooming with him.”

Kenny pouted a lip. “I thought you loved me.”

“I don’t love anyone enough to put up with Cartman!” Clyde declared with a forced chill.

“I’m telling Bebe.” Kenny teased. He glanced back at Kyle and granted him a wink before he turned and trekked back down the hall to his own room.

“Is he…?” Kyle trailed off, finding it difficult to finish the inquiry.

Clyde was bemused. “Gay?” Relieved he caught on, Kyle nodded. “Nah, he’s just a flirt. Well, he said he's pansexual, so I guess he’s like 50% gay. Or something like that, I don’t really know what pansexual is.”

“Ah,” Kyle sighed, turning away so Clyde didn’t see his excited grin. It wasn’t that he was particularly interested in Kenny already, but the fact that he hadn’t even considered the existence of open-minded people with different sexualities made a flutter of hope glide through him. Perhaps he would finally find a boyfriend among the foreign group of people.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the chapter i introduce butters! again, let me know if theres any problematic terms or descriptions or anything, i will gladly change it as i know im not an expert

Even after an understanding conversation with the dean of Millville Community College himself, Butters was unspeakably nervous to move into a girl’s dormitory. While she was confident in her femininity and specifically chose an out-of-state college for a fresh start with people that were unaware of her biology, she still felt as if everyone _knew_ her past and struggles. She nervously chewed on her fake nail as she mindlessly searched for her dorm.

“Having trouble?” a voice asked from behind her, making her jump in surprise.

Butters’s wide gaze fell on an amused looking girl with voluptuous blonde curls and a curvy body to match. Butters felt intimidated by her beauty and spoke in a small voice, “Uh, yeah, I can’t find my dorm.”

The girl smiled at her graciously, “Where are you headed, hon?”

“Jefferson Hall,” Butters answered sheepishly.

“That’s right across from me! C’mon, I was heading to my dorm anyways.” Her cheerful response came with a gesture for Butters to follow. “What’s your name?”

“Butters,” she almost whispered, suddenly embarrassed of her childhood nickname.

The taller blonde seemed vaguely confused, but didn’t question it. “That’s really unique. I’m Bebe.”

“That’s really unique, too.” Butters replied with a faint grin.

“Thanks! So, where are you from? You sound like you a have a little accent.”

“Oh, uh, I’m from Kentucky… It ain’t too noticeable, is it? Well, I hate the way my family talks…”

Bebe giggled. “Don’t worry. It’s cute.”

Butters felt a bit of relief wash over her as Bebe continued to make idle conversation on the way to the dorm-building. She took in her surroundings as they circled the campus; it appeared like a miniature town. There were busy people bustling about, little pathways and roads and gardens and centers and housing and lecture halls. It really was a community.

“Here we are, Jefferson Hall.” Bebe announced after five minutes of ambling through the place. She gestured towards the large, older-looking building that was sure enough labeled _Jefferson Hall_ on its front.

“Thank you so much.” Butters said with genuine relief laced in her tone.

“T’was my pleasure.” Bebe assured with a grin. “I’ll see you around, Butters!”

“Bye.” Butters waved and watched Bebe strut off for a moment. She wished to have her for a roommate, because that was probably the nicest anyone was going to be here; especially if she was somehow exposed. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Butters started for room 10A.

Passing through a corridor full of females made Butters feel both inadequate and in place. While all the girls were blessed with the natural curves, long hair, and breasts that Butters was not, she identified with her fellow ladies and was beyond thrilled that the dean could understand how wrong she would feel to be in a corridor full of boys.

On approaching her dorm, her heart swelled with a while new wave of anxiety. All possibilities of her new roommate automatically hating her became very real to her. Butters pushed out a deep sigh and raised her hand, tapping timidly on the wooden door. She occupied herself by chewing on a hangnail until the door swung open and a very unhappy looking fellow student was revealed. Her black hair was styled to swoop across her forehead, the makeup on her eyes and lips also dark. An uncomfortable looking corset adorned her hefty body, and a cigarette burned between her jewelry-clad fingers. “What?”

“Uh, h-hi… I’m your roommate…” Her voice was cracking with nerves, suddenly feeling even less confident.

“Oh,” was all the busty, goth girl said before stepping back over to her bed and returning to the task of cutting pictures out of a magazine.

Butters slowly entered the space and peered at the sheet-less bed on the other side of the room. Light, blue eyes on her alternative roommate the whole time, she claimed the other side of the room by setting her luggage on the mattress. Already on the wall beside the other student’s bed were pictures of Ted Bundy and a concert poster for Depeche Mode.

“What’s your name?” She inquired to Butters’s surprise.

“Butters…”

She seemed to consider this answer with a similarly confused reaction to what Bebe’s a few minutes prior. “Henrietta. Don’t touch my stuff or turn me in for smoking and we’ll get along great.”

“I can definitely not do those things.” Butters confirmed with a sweet smile. She disregarded the threatening part of Henrietta’s statement and clung to _we’ll get along great_. It was more than enough considering the overwhelming amount of adjustments she would have to make in a short amount of time.

Meeting a really nice girl and getting along with her roommate by default was a better start than she was expecting, at least.

_

An irritatingly repetitive buzzing sound mercilessly ripped Kyle from his slumber. He growled aloud and slapped the snooze button on the torture device, wishing for nothing but five more minutes. With one glance at the clock with sleep crusted eyes, he knew he had only a half-hour to figure out how to tame the ginger beast of hair atop his head, dress himself, and get to his Intro to Basic Constitutional Law course on time.

“Kill it with fire.” Clyde moaned against his pillow when Kyle’s alarm began chirping again five minutes later.

“Sorry, Clyde.” Kyle muttered, wiggling his jeans on as he stepped back over to his bed-side table to shut the alarm up for good. After doing so, he looped his belt and headed to the restroom across the hall.

While brushing his teeth, Kyle physically cringed at his horribly messy mane of auburn curls. They would have been so much more attractive if he had taken the time to straighten them into tamed waves, but he was far too unmotivated at seven o’clock on a Monday morning. He settled on running back to his dorm and obtaining a hat before heading towards his destination.

As he walked, he noticed another boy also awake and heading out of the dorm. From behind, he was a heavyset guy with nice, light brown hair. When they both reached the door, he turned to notice Kyle tracing his steps. When their eyes met, he couldn’t help but smile.

Kyle decided that he was pretty cute—and even cuter when he held the door open for him to pass through. The extra weight that was noticeable in his chubby cheeks was a trivial factor in his appearance for Kyle, who was particularly drawn to his eyes: one was deep, chocolate brown and the other was a grey-blue. They were almond shaped with dark lashes that complimented the unique colors beautifully. “Thanks.” He tried not to gush.

The other boy only hummed in response and secured the heavy wooden door shut behind him. Kyle grinned happily to himself as he trotted down the steep steps into the outside world. He hoped he was headed to the same place.

“Hello, everyone! Welcome to Constitutional Law. My name’s Dr. Goodman and I know how juvenile this is, but I always start us off by taking attendance. You guys wouldn’t believe how many people show up in the wrong class.” The awkwardly thin professor announced before scooping up a clipboard from his desk.

Fate must on been on Kyle’s side that morning, because not only was the cute guy from the doom in the same class as him, but he took a seat sigh next to him in the small, amphitheater-style lecture hall. Whenever he stole glances at the heterochromia eyed boy he’d find that he was already staring. It made his stomach quench like adolescent puppy-love, but it was a lot better than what he was used to getting in the flirtation department, which was a drunk Stan wanting to cuddle with him.

“Kyle Broflovski?” Dr. Goodman winced. “Did I say that right?”

Kyle lifted his hand. “Yeah, you’re fine.”

“Alright, good.” He sighed in relief and sent the redhead a smile.

“Broflovski?” Pretty eyes repeated in the same questioning tone as the professor. “Are you Jewish?”

“Yeah…” Kyle confirmed confusedly.

The boy scanned Kyle's face, then hummed, seemingly coming to a conclusion. “I guess I can see it in the nose now.”

Kyle scoffed, instinctively covering his face. “What the hell does it matter to you?”

“I'm just saying,” He shrugged as if it were a causal conversation piece.

Kyle was absolutely bewildered by the blatant anti-Semitism this guy was admitting to. Who the hell was he?

“Eric Cartman,” Dr. Goodman pronounced, scanning the group of kids for the owner.

“Right here.” The boy with pretty eyes claimed with a raise of his hand.

Kyle’s eyes went wide with the recognition of that name. Over the course of the few days he had spent periodically interacting with Clyde and Kenny, Kyle had heard his fair share of horror stories about the annoying, arrogant, chauvinistic bully that went out of his way to constantly irritate his friends and peers, and his name was Eric Cartman.

“Shit,” Kyle cursed under his breath.

_

After enduring a class-full of slurs and dirty jokes about his people, Kyle was grateful to be back at his dorm with a now awakened Clyde scrolling through his Twitter feed. Kyle slammed his over-the-shoulder back on the ground and let out a long exhale, “I fucking hate Eric Cartman.”

Clyde peered up from his screen and sent him a knowing frown. “Finally had the pleasure of meeting him?”

“God, is he even real? He just spent an entire class harassing me about being Jewish and having _Jew gold_. Has anyone ever kicked his ass before?”

“Oh yeah, all of us. Especially my friend, Token, who knocked him the fuck out one time. But, he got slightly better over the years and we all just learned to ignore him.”

Kyle turned his head to the side. “How the hell can you not care about those endless, disgusting comments?”

Clyde shrugged. “He only does it to get a rise out of people. If you act like it doesn’t bother you, he’ll eventually lay off. He hates being ignored.”

Kyle huffed, not wanting to admit that Clyde had a very valid point. All he wanted to do was colonize his fist with Cartman’s face and kiss him simultaneously. It was frustrating already, and he had only had the displeasure of knowing him for an hour and a half so far. “You’re probably right, I just… I mean, is he serious?”

“Dude, I’ve known the guy since forever and I still don't know. I really don't think so. I just think he likes to push people's buttons and he's immature. At least, I hope to God he doesn’t actually believe half the shit he says.”

“Me too, because he’d be a fucking Nazi.” Kyle scoffed. “Does that Token guy go here?”

Clyde shook his head, “No, that guy’s super smart, he got a huge scholarship to the University of Denver.”

“Damn, maybe I’ll have to kick his ass myself.” This year was certainly going to be far more interesting than he thought.


	3. Chapter 3

“Craig!” Clyde greeted happily after pulling the door open.

In walked a dark tan skinned, listless-gazed giant with jet black hair peeking out of a grey, slouch beanie. Kyle admired his _Panic! At the Disco_ hoodie but for some reason was too intimidated to tell him. Maybe it was his general disposition or the fact he had to have been well above six-feet tall.

“Hey, buttpipe.” Craig returned. His voice possessed a similar nasally and low-pitched quality to Clyde’s, the major difference being how monotone it sounded.

“This is Craig, and this is my roommate, Kyle.” Clyde gave introductions with a cheesy smile.

Craig turned his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “You have red hair, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Kyle answered questioningly, pulling up his own beanie to prove it.

“Sorry, that was a weird greeting,” Craig shook his head. “Cartman said you’re hot, so I wanted to confirm that was you.”

Kyle’s heart fluttered embarrassingly. He internally scolded himself for getting butterflies for that absolute asshole. It was day two of the ridicule and he was completely prepared to crawl up his ass and tear him apart from the inside out. He heard many new Holocaust jokes and hated each one a little bit more than the last. It took everything in him to remember Clyde’s advice and not snap.

“That’s disgusting.” Kyle quipped with a sassy smile. “Nice to meet you, Craig.”

“Yes, he is.” Craig snorted and took a seat beside Clyde on his bed. “Same goes, Red.”

“Did he mention the part where he lost interest in me because I’m Jewish?”

Craig pursed his lips, taking the PS4 controller Clyde handed him and pressed the power button in the center. “He did mention that you were Jewish, but not that he lost interest.” 

“Speaking of guys, though, didn’t you say you had your eye on someone, Craig?” Clyde asked as he scrolled through the settings of their war-style video game.

“I don’t have my eye on him, but he’s cute.” Craig amended. “He’s probably straight, though.”

“All the hot ones are.” Kyle muttered.

“Seriously.” Craig agreed.

In the midst of a conversation about Craig’s anonymous crush, Kyle felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He removed the cell phone from the sweatpants and grinned when he read _Marsh_ on his caller ID. He pressed the phone to his ear, “Hey, Stan.”

“Kyle! Ugh, I miss you, bud!” Stan’s distorted voice sounded from the other line. “I have _so_ much shit to tell you. Are you busy?”

“Not at all,” Kyle informed him, standing from his bed and exiting the dorm room, still able to hear the two friends to yell at their video game together from behind the shut door. “What’s up?”

“Okay, so, this is gonna sound really weird, but the showers here are fucking awesome. There’s like sectioned off cubicles with actual doors. And warm water barely runs out! I took like a half-hour and it was still warm. It’s bliss.” Stan began, his voice laced with enthusiasm. It always made Kyle happy whenever his best friend was excited about things—since it was rare due to his rough teenage years. He seemed to be much happier in college and Kyle was so thankful. “The guys on the team are really cool, too. Like, they actually know about football, unlike everyone in Fairplay.”

Kyle laughed a little, “That must be a major plus.”

“Oh, it’s great to have people who are _good_ play with you. I mean, me being pretty good made things manageable, but man, is it better here. I haven’t seen any other teams play yet but I already think we have a chance of making it to the championship after seeing the starters. Our defense is already rock solid, Coach Mora seems super awesome so far. He coached the Falcons and the Seahawks, dude! I didn’t even know that until this junior guy told me. Can you believe I might be able to play in the _Pac 12 Championship game_? Or at the very least sit there and be on the team? This is all so crazy. Also, there’s about twelve hot girls per class. I love California girls, Kyle. I really love them.”

“That sounds awesome, Stan. I’m really happy for you.”

“Yeah,” Stan agreed with how _awesome_ it was as he came down from his high of exhilaration. “So, Millville treating you okay?”

Kyle sighed, tracing his bare toe across the tile floor in the restroom. “It’s no LA, but I’ll survive.”

“It’s so retarded that they took away your scholarship for that, man. It wasn’t even your fault.” Stan told him, tone defensive as it always was when this topic was discussed.

“Are you stupid? Yeah it was, I got in the car and Jimmy and Pip almost died, _and_ I got suspended. That’s enough to prove I’m not Stanford material. Or valedictorian material,”

“Okay, it was totally your fault, but you _are_ Stanford and valedictorian! It isn’t fair—I used to be a fucking alcoholic, and you get drunk once and you lose everything. It’s not fair.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, dude. But, hey, that’s life.” Kyle shrugged. “Besides, it’s not so bad here. If I’m lucky I’ll do the best this college has ever seen this year and transfer to Stanford or at least somewhere actually Kyle-worthy.”

“That’s my boy,” Stan declared with a fake sniffle. “Speaking of boys…”

Kyle rolled his eyes. He could _hear_ that idiot waggling his eyebrows. “No. None. I mean, there’s actually quite a few not-straight guys, but none that I’m interested in.”

Stan replied, “Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me—“

“Shut the fuck up, oh my god.” Kyle cut him off in a groan. “Okay, there’s this one guy and he’s really cute, but he’s a douchebag that’s obsessed with my Jew gold and I can’t deal with it.”

“Hold on, what? What the hell is Jew gold?”

“I don’t know! He’s constantly making rude jokes and that’s one of them. I don’t really know if he’s being serious or not, he just has a lot of inappropriate stereotypes to he thinks are hilarious. But he’s so cute, Stan, what do I do?”

“Well, don’t date him? He sounds crazy,”

Kyle stomped his foot childishly, “But he’s _cute_.”

“And so are you, dumbass. Don’t settle for someone who’s, like, racist when you can get any guy you want.”

Kyle smiled. “See, this is another reason I need to be in California. I miss your pep talks.”

“Well, I really don’t miss Colorado, but I do miss you!” Stan promised. After a few more moments of catching up over the phone, the two friends ended the call, leaving Kyle to wallow in his entirely less desirable experience at college thus far.

_ 

“Hey, Clyde. Kyle,” A familiar voice greeted Kyle as he lounged on his bed, watching _Modern Family_ with his roommate. Eric cocked an eyebrow at the bag of Cheetos he was snacking on. “Is junk food kosher?”

“What do you want?” Clyde droned, not even looking up to greet him. Kyle, on the other hand, was glaring daggers at him.

Eric noticed this attention from Kyle and lapped up every bit of it. “Just to come visit two of my good friends.”

“I’m not your friend.” Kyle corrected icily.

Eric leaned against the doorframe with a presumptuous smile. “You don’t mean that, Kahl. We talk all the time.”

“Not by choice,” Kyle shot back. “And, my name’s not _Kahl_.”

“Don’t be so bitter, _Kahl_. You know we have a connection.”

Kyle scoffed at that. “The only connection we will ever have is my foot with your balls.”

“How about your mouth with my balls?”

“Ugh, sick, Cartman, get out!” Clyde groaned, throwing a Cheeto at him.

“Okay, okay, I came to ask Kahl a legitimate question.” Eric spoke in a diplomatic tone, hand over his hand.

“What?” Kyle asked through gritted teeth.

“I just wanted to know… How tall is the grass in Germany?”

“What?” Kyle repeated himself, this time with a perplexed connotation.

“This tall,” Eric answered for him, raising his right hand to form the Nazi salute.

White hot rage burned inside Kyle like a tea kettle daring to scream. He grabbed the nearest object—which happened to be a pillow—and chucked it as hard as he could at Eric, shouting, “Quit belittling my people, you absolute piece of shit!”

Eric easily caught the pillow Kyle launched at him and smirked to himself. “You know, remotes hurt a lot worse than pillows, Kahl.”

Kyle glanced down at the hard plastic remote then returned his wrathful gaze to the bully. “Are you asking me to throw a remote at you? Because I’ll take you up on that offer if you say one more goddamn thing about Jewish people!”

“Jeesh, cool your shit, babe. It’s called an offensive _joke_ for a reason.”

“Well, it’s not fucking funny, and I’m not your _babe_. So, please get the fuck out of my dorm because I kick your ass.” Kyle seethed.

Eric couldn’t get enough of the pouty expression, knit eyebrows, and fierce comebacks. The biggest reaction he had gotten out of anyone in years (besides the police and his mother, of course) was occasionally riling Kenny up and making Craig pissed at him for a few weeks. But this was _delicious_. Especially considering how _adorable_ the Jewish boy was when he was angry.

Eric tossed his hands up in mock submission. “I won’t tempt you.”

With that, he turned and returned to his own dorm, feeling very accomplished and very attracted to Kyle.

Clyde laughed aloud and shook his head. “He’s never going to leave you alone.”

Despite Kyle’s disgruntled sigh, he oddly hoped that he wouldn’t. Perhaps a little rivalry was just want he needed.

_

“You couldn’t wait five more seconds for us to find a table?” Bebe scolded her boyfriend, who was unattractively attempting to walk and eat his taco simultaneously.

He shrugged and spoke with a mouthful of meat and hard tortilla shell, “I’m hungry.”

“You’re a mess.” She shook her head, grinning despite herself. It was the first time she had met up with all of her fellow South Park natives since moving in, and since it was around noon, they decided to grab some lunch at the cafeteria. Finding a seat proved to be slightly more challenging than she had originally thought, but the issue was resolved when she saw a familiar face sitting alone at an otherwise vacant table. “Oh, over here, boys!”

The four watched as Bebe greeted someone sitting alone at a table. The girl’s light blonde hair was pulled back in a stick-straight pony-tail and an oversized sweater made her seem even thinner and smaller than she was. The first thing anyone would notice about her was her big, shining blue eyes—nicely complimented by subtle brown eyeshadow and thick mascara. “Hi, Bebe!” she greeted cheerfully.

“Mind if we join you?” Bebe inquired, already claiming the seat beside her.

She grinned sweetly and shut the book she was previously preoccupied with. “Not at all.”

That was Craig, Clyde, Kenny, and Eric’s cue to sit down. They all immediately began chowing down on their lunch, making Bebe slightly ashamed to present them as her friends. “Guys, this is Butters. Butters, this is Clyde, Craig, Eric, and Kenny.”

“’Sup.” Clyde said. Bebe’s eye twitched at his remaining inability to swallow before he spoke.

“Clyde, I swear to god.”

The brunette smirked, leaning closer to her, “Bebe’s my beautiful girlfriend.”

Bebe cracked a small smile after enduring a wet kiss on the cheek. “For now,”

Butters giggled. “Nice to meet you all.”

The rest of the boys agreed listlessly before falling back into their prior engagements with one another. Aside from Kenny, who was absolutely mesmerized by Bebe’s new friend. She was exactly his type—sweet, blond, and stylish. He thought she looked like an angel with her pure, beautiful, smile illuminating the entire cafeteria. Kenny had a plethora of romantic endeavors in the past, but it was unusual for someone to take his breath away.

“Hello? Kenneth?” Bebe’s fingers snapping in his face pulled him back to reality.

“Huh?” Kenny hummed dumbly, reluctantly ripping his gaze from Butters’s face when his friend made him realize he had been staring too long.

“Butters was talking to you.” Bebe filled him in.

“She was?” He had very much zoned out. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Butters laughed shyly, shrugging. “It’s okay. I just said I like your shirt.”

The boy glanced down to see that he was in his _Abbey Road_ shirt beneath a grey jacket. He almost forgot to reply again, captivated by the slight accent in her small voice. “Thanks. The Beatles are pretty cool...” he trailed off awkwardly.

The attraction was not one-sided. Butters found her heart melting by the gorgeous blond boy’s freckled cheeks turning rosy, yet the black ring that adorned his lip earned him an intriguing edge. Kenny was easily the cutest person she had seen at this university—and quite possibly in general. “What’s your favorite song by them?”

His honey brown eyes gazed fixedly at her, as if he was searching for the answer on her face. “Um… I like the, uh, one about all the lonely people…”

“Eleanor Rigby?” Butters answered for him.

“Yeah…”

“Jesus, McCormick, what’s gotten into you?” Craig asked with a smirk. This was entirely out his cocky friend’s character. He was never a particularly chatty person, but if he had an interest in someone he wasn’t shy about it—unlike what seemed to be happening then.

“Seriously, you look like Cartman when he sees Kyle.” Clyde added with a snort.

“Aye, shut the fuck up.” Eric shot back, barely looking up from his iPhone.

“Kenny’s a really big flirt, and usually a little smoother,” Bebe filled Butters in with an amused smile.

“More like an arrogant dick,” Clyde joked, earning a playful nudge from his girlfriend.

Kenny rolled his eyes, “I just got a little distracted by how pretty Butters is. My bad,”

It was Butters’s turn to blush fiercely. Falling in love with Kenny’s sly smile and earning a wink, she let out a soft giggle and peered down at her feet. She had never been _flirted_ with before. Well, if she had, it was another girl once or twice in her life time. This was a whole new experience that her stomach didn’t seem to know how to process.

“And, he’s back.” Craig announced.

The rest of the lunch time was spent by the two subtly flirting as well as Butters getting to know everyone a little bit better. She decided that she liked Bebe and Clyde, Craig was a bit cynical for her taste, and Eric seemed to be a complete and utter jerk—the kind that used to shove her in lockers for wearing eyeliner and bright colors. Kenny, however, she decided was absolutely amazing.

She had known him for an hour and already, she felt emotionally connected to him. He was witty and cheeky, with an award-winning smile and a reckless gleam in his eyes. She did not believe that the words _arrogant_ and _dick_ accurately described him; what she detected was _genuine_ and _sweet_ and she wanted nothing more than to discover if she was correct.

“It was nice meeting you, Butters!” Clyde told her after they had thrown away their lunch. His arm snaked around Bebe’s wide hips.

Bebe smiled brightly at her, “See you in class tomorrow?”

Butters nodded and wiggled her fingers at them as they retreated. Before she was alone again, Butters turned to see that she was still accompanied by Kenny, who was the third person from her new friend’s congregation that was noticeably taller than her. Despite being five-foot-seven, she had to pull her chin up a bit to meet his eyes.

“It was really nice to meet you,” He told her with emphasis to insinuate his interest in her. “I would say _see you around_ , but I could find you again much better and sooner if I had your phone number…”

Her tummy twisted in knots as she watched him pull his BlackBerry Curve out of his faded black jeans. He pressed a few buttons before peering down at her expectantly. Briefly wondering if she was dreaming but deciding to go along with it anyways, Butters recited her cell-phone number and Kenny typed it in. He then raised the camera at her and quickly snapped a picture.

“Kenny!” she protested when she heard the sound-effect.

“What? I needed a contact picture.” Kenny smirked. “Not that I could forget a name like Butters.”

“Please delete it,” She whined.

“Relax,” He told her, dipping in a bit closer to make eye contact. Blue met brown and both their hearts skipped a beat. He grinned. “You’re beautiful.”

With that, Kenny turned and began ambling away. He promised, “I’ll text ya later.”

Butters remained in the same place for a moment, blushing like a maniac and trying desperately to figure out whether or not Kenny McCormick was imaginary.


	4. Chapter 4

Kyle’s heavy eyelids dropped as the computer screen before him became blurry. He was already beginning his first paper for his English course and the late nights were taking a toll on him. He used a balled fist as support for his head, words and sentences and rhetorical devices jumbling together in his brain and his Starbucks remedy wore off.

He jolted back to consciousness when the entrance to the dorm swung open. Panicked, he threw a glance over his shoulder to be reassured that it was only Clyde coming in from a late night with Bebe. Kyle may have been exhausted, but not nearly tired enough to miss his red face and sex hair. Clyde grinned dopily, “Still up, dude?”

Kyle groaned affirmatively, rubbing his knuckles against his nostrils. “Barely.”

The brunette crossed the room and dropped his jacket on the floor beside his bed. Living with Clyde for two weeks left Kyle with little complaints, but one thing that made him absolutely cringe was how disorganized he kept. It took everything in him not to straighten Clyde’s side of the room while he was out one day. Miscellaneous articles of clothing, pencils, earbuds, papers and more were strewn across the desk and bed and it made Kyle uncomfortable.

“You should get some sleep, dude. You look awful.” Clyde told him bluntly.

“Gee, thanks.” Kyle rolled his eyes and used two fingers to shut his laptop. Despite the unintentional bash, he was right—it was three in the morning and he had to be up at six to begin the whole routine of class after class over again. If this was tiring, he couldn’t even picture how it would be for him at a more prestigious school in a few years. The thought made him want to sleep for the rest of his life and excited at the same time.

Kyle strives on difficulties. If he had no challenges in his life, he would go absolutely crazy. If he sat still for too long he would need to stand up and do something. Especially with his unending potential in almost everything he tried, he was desperate to constantly push himself to be the best version of Kyle possible; which is a major reason why he smirked at the thought of dealing with Eric’s endless ridiculing the next morning.

They had established a notable rivalry within the first week and a half of knowing one another. Eric would push button after button in order to get Kyle to squirm and become flustered, and Kyle’s objective was to either ignore him or do the same. Their classmate, professors, and mutual friends all stuck up their nose, already extremely tired of the unresolved sexual tension.

“Oh, Kyle, by the way,” Clyde began as the red-head changed into his pajama bottoms. “What are you doing Friday night?”

Kyle shrugged, “The usual. Cramming and writing essays.”

“Well, you should give yourself the day off and come to this party Bebe got invited to. It’s gonna be lit.” Clyde invited him with a proud smirk across his face. This wasn’t the first time his cool girlfriend was able to grant him access to a social event.

Immediately, Kyle shook his head. “No, thanks, I don’t do parties.”

Clyde frowned as he lounged back against his mattress. “Why not? It’s just one night. You can go back to studying the next day, when your hangover wears off.”

“I get the appeal, but, honestly, partying is what got me here and not Stanford. Hard pass.”

“Really? What’d you do?” Clyde wondered, interest piqued by Kyle’s excuse to turn down a college party. Only over-achievers and pretentious assholes did that in his opinion. He assumed Kyle was the first.

Kyle let out a long sigh as he crawled underneath his duvet. “Let’s just say that I was not-soberly driving and I did not get to where I was going."

Blue eyes widened, “Holy shit, dude! You have to give me the details!”

“Maybe when it’s not three in the morning. Good night,” He told him, plugging in his iPhone before pressing his face to his pillow and pulling the blanket around him.

“Way to leave a guy hanging.” Clyde groaned and did the same.

_

It was so hard to pay attention to a guy drone on about such a specific section of the constitution in an enclosed lecture hall filled with nothing but the sound of his voice. Eric was climbing the walls, every fact that his fellow college-goers hurriedly scribbled down even lamer than the last. If this class was not a requirement there was no way he would have taken it, but he was a business major. His main goal in life was to make money by avoiding the laws, so he supposed he had to learn what the rules were in order to break them.

Unbearably bored, he decided it would be much more entertaining to stare at his neighbor, who was taking detailed notes in his impeccable hand-writing. Eric scrutinized the way his wrist moved as he inscribed bullet-points into his composition notebook. He grinned slightly when he noticed the boy’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration and his two-front teeth pushing down against his lower lip. As bitchy and annoying as Kyle and his self-righteous, good-hearted persona were, he was undeniably attractive.

His symmetrical face was framed by flaming auburn curls. He was the only redhead Eric had ever seen without matching freckles speckled across his face. Instead, he had an enticing creamy complexion. His brown eyes were deep and sincere, as if every time he looked at you he was letting you know you’re important in some way. His long, crooked nose was even adorable in Eric’s eyes.

Eric’s favorite activity was seeing how cute he looked when he was mad; that, and the fact that his sense of humor came from making others angry or uncomfortable. He leaned to the side, slowly pushing his pen inside Kyle’s ear. As soon as he felt the plastic writing utensil against him, he leapt out of his skin and cupped his hand over his head. He shot Eric a glare, whispering, “What the hell?”

He chuckled to himself, pretending he did nothing and staring ahead. Kyle scoffed and trained his attention back on the lecture. As soon as his guard was down, Eric repeated his action.

“Quit being five, you idiot!” Kyle spat, grabbing for his pen. Eric pulled it away immediately and covered his lips to muffle his laughing. The redhead faced forward again and did his best not to start laughing himself. The corners of his mouth curled upward as he watched Eric out of the corner of his eye, calculating the perfect time to strike.

Eric nonchalantly tapped the butt of his pen against his desk, doing the same. He leisurely inched towards the other boy, weapon at the ready. He lifted his arm and aimed for his ear again, but this time, he went up against Kyle’s quick reflexes.

Kyle grabbed his wrist tightly and smirked to himself, easily taking the pen from Eric’s hand. Eric winced, completely caught off guard by the other boy’s strength. “Jesus Christ, do they teach you karate in Jew scouts?”

“Nope,” Kyle retorted, popping the ‘p’ and letting the pen fall to the ground. “Jew-ditsu.”

Kyle chuckled, pleasantly accepting his victory and loosening his grip. He withdrew his hand perhaps a bit too slowly, their eyes watching one another intently. When their hands brushed they knew somehow that both of their hearts fluttered. “Pick it up.” Kyle shot in a whisper before clearing his throat and returning to his task of note-taking.

Eric let out a small exhale. He was in way over his head with this one.

_

“No, you guys, Jesus tap-dancing Christ,” Kyle declined for the thousandth time. He was being shadowed by Clyde and Kenny relentlessly begging him to attend the party with them that night. Their tactic consisted of repeating _please_ until Kyle finally gave in.

“Come on, man, it’ll be fun! You need to let your hair down for one night.” Kenny bargained.

Kyle stopped and gestured for emphasis, “I do not want to go partying with a bunch alcoholic idiots, then run away when the cops are inevitably notified. I would be much happier staying here and studying.”

“Studying and happy don’t belong in the same sentence,” Clyde snorted.

“Everyone's gonna be there! I mean, I’m enough of a reason, but Bebe and Craig and Eric and Butters,”—Kenny listed this name with a fondness in his expression—“It’s gonna be a lot of fun.”

Kyle frowned, “You’re dragging that poor girl to a college party?”

“Yes, mother,” Kenny answered with a simper. “We’ve been texting non-stop for a week. We barely get to meet up in person ‘cause of my work schedule. And she has a lot of classes, I don’t see how she juggles it.”

“You’re already working?” Kyle asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I needed a job.” Kenny said uncomfortably before shifting the subject. “Anyways, she’ll be fine and so will you.”

Kyle sucked in a long breath, glancing at his alarm clock. It was nine o’clock and he was already finished with a majority of his homework. He rolled his eyes to the back of his head, furious at himself for giving in. “I’ll go for an hour. As long as you leave me the fuck alone the next time you decide to go to a party.”

“Deal!” Clyde agreed enthusiastically.

“Let’s get you presentable, then.” Kenny added. He clapped Kyle’s shoulders and directed him towards his wardrobe.

Kyle peered down at his ensemble: white sweater, collared shirt beneath, and dark-wash jeans. “I’m not already presentable?”

“Well, you look cute because you’re Kyle, but Kyle isn’t party ready,” Kenny extrapolated before searching through his friend’s clothes. “Dude, did you color coat your underwear?”

Kyle shrugged. “I was bored.”

“So you organized your dresser?”

“Maybe,”

Kenny laughed to himself, easily finding a long-sleeved shirt and less dorky jeans. “You know what I do when I’m bored?”

Kyle scrunched his nose as the blond turned to look at him again. “I’m not sure if I _want_ to know.”

“I jack off.” He replied and handed him the ‘party-ready’ outfit.

“Yup,” Kyle sighed, taking the clothes. “Definitely did not want to know.”

Kenny laughed, nodding his head at him, “Get dressed and let’s go.”

“I’m not sure if I like you ordering me around like this.” He pulled his sweater off his head and tossed it into his dirty-clothes hamper, replacing it with his plain, grey shirt.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll let you order me around all you want when we get a few beers in us.” Kenny teasingly promised with a wink.

Kyle rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that night as he replaced his jeans with the ones his friend picked out for him. “You wish.”

“You know I do,” While that was partially true, he would have much rather it be Butters. Kenny had spent long nights on the phone with her and had become completely enthralled. She was the sweetest and most unique person he had ever met on top of being insanely adorable. There was something different and refreshing about her. 

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late!” Clyde urged them before Kyle had even managed to get his left shoe on.

Kyle groaned, “Hold on, I have to check my sugar.”

Kenny and Clyde groaned in unison as Kyle opened up his miniature book-bag containing his glucose-meter. He routinely pricked his finger and made corrections to his insulin pump. When he was finished he raised his eyebrows. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Finally,” Kenny huffed sardonically.

Kyle felt a lot like the mother of the group; he locked the door behind them, reminded them not to get too carried away, and made them promise that they would refrain from imbibing anything _too_ illegal. They rolled their eyes through his whole speech and made him wonder why he was even _going_. Then he remembered two deciding factors, relaxation and Eric.


	5. Chapter 5

The boys were a full block away from the party and could already hear a thumping bass. Kyle wanted to again point out that the cops were going to be called, but Kenny and Clyde were extremely pumped. He decided to avoid being a grandpa for the time being.

Kyle’s anxiety skyrocketed on entering the frat house. If the front yard was full of drunken bodies, the inside of the building was packed. His jaw dropped at the surplus of college kids bumping and grinding on one another, their red Solo cups spilling over the edge with every gyration or sudden movement. Kenny and Clyde exchanged animated glances like kids in a candy store.

“Apparently Cartman and Craig are already here,” Clyde said, reading his incoming messages. “They’re in the backyard with Bebe.”

“Let’s grab a drink and go meet up with them.” Kenny suggested. He kept stealing glances at his own cell phone.

The boys weaved in out of the crowd, discovering a table of distorted drinks and glass bottles of alcohol. Clyde grabbed a pre-poured glass of whiskey and glanced around him, wondering who the host of the party was. Kenny didn’t care and had already downed two shots.

“You want a drink, Kyle?” Clyde offered with a raised eyebrow.

He shook his head ‘no’, gaze still focused on the intoxicated teenagers laughing and making out and dancing. They were all more than likely under the drinking age. Kyle wondered just how disappointed their mothers would be in them, and how disappointed his own would be in him for simply showing up.

Clyde groaned and remained determined to get Kyle to be less of a stickler. He eyed a cooler beside the table and retrieved a can of Coke. He clicked it open and poured it into a cup of rum, “Here, just have one, get a little buzz going. I _promise_ nothing bad will happen.”

Kyle puffed out a sigh, “Dude, I really don’t want anything to do with alcohol ever again.”

“Quit being a mom!” Kenny joked, shoving the cup into his chest and cocking an eyebrow. “Live a little.”

Kyle rolled his eyes to the back of his skull and shadowed his friends towards the backyard. Kenny jerked open the sliding door, letting a gust of cold air in and Clyde and Kyle out. Outside was a roaring bonfire that made Kyle’s eyes widen yet again. “Dude, I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

Clyde shrugged, “So is under-age drinking.”

“That just means we’d get in even _more_ trouble!”

“Hey, guys!” The three were greeted by nicely dressed Bebe. Her natural curves were attractively accentuated by her tight blue dress.

Clyde’s eyes practically bulged out of his head, “Hello, Bebe.”

The blonde girl smiled into a kiss from her boyfriend, Craig gagging in response. When they separated Clyde narrowed his eyes, “Jealous?”

“No, I’m gay.” Craig shot back.

“I mean of Bebe.” Clyde clarified with a smirk.

Craig showed him his middle finger before returning his attention to his iPhone. Kyle’s eyes fell upon an equally disinterested party-goer sitting in a fold-away chair besides him. Eric wore a red and blue flannel over a _The Empire Strikes Back_ shirt, a black beanie adoring his brown fringe. Kyle grinned to himself and hastily looked away when Eric met his gaze.

“Well, Clyde, I’m impressed. You managed to get Jewboy here.” Eric commented, earning an annoyed glare from his crush.

“Hey,” a small voice greeted Kenny. Butters appeared beside him with a bashful smile.

Kenny’s attention immediately averted to her, lips curling into a smile. His wide brown eyes took in her body in a loose-fitting striped shirt and skater skirt. “Well, hey, gorgeous.”

“Hi, Butters.” Bebe greeted with a grin. There was a brief conversation before Kenny and Butters started to ignore everything around them. Eventually Clyde and Bebe did the same, leaving only Craig, Eric, and Kyle in the real world.

“Are you Jew-ing out on getting drunk, Kahl?” Eric inquired teasingly.

“No, fatass,” Kyle scoffed, swishing the alcoholic concoction in the plastic container. “It has soda in it. I’d have to do corrections.”

“Corrections?” Eric repeated questioning.

Kyle nodded, having a feeling this would lead to another line of ridicule. “For my diabetes.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were diabetic,” Eric replied.

Kyle narrowed his eyes, “And?”

“And what?” Eric asked.

“Aren’t you going to tell me it makes me even lamer or something? Or make fun of my pancreas for not working properly? Or blame it on my religion or something?”

With a smirk, Eric responded, “Are you asking me to make fun of you?”

“Will you two shut up? I hate you both, just have sex. Nobody thinks these interactions are quirky.” Craig complained after a bought of silence, followed by another bought of silence.

Exchanging unsure looks, Kyle and Eric closed their mouths. They joined in a moment of awkward silence. Eric finally broke the quiet to comment, “You look less stereotypically Jewish tonight.”

Kyle nailed Eric with an angry scowl, “You drove me to this,” and taking a long swig of his alcoholic beverage.

He did it more to make a point than anything, but all it really took to get Kyle a little dizzy was to finish off the cup. After leaving a burning sensation in his throat and taking a moment to settle into his system, the world around him became a little less shitty. The irritating pop music that blasted through the night wasn’t nearly as intolerable, Clyde’s tongue down Bebe’s throat wasn’t as disturbing, and Eric was even cuter in his eyes. Perhaps _one_ more drink couldn’t hurt.

However, two drinks later and Eric was genuinely concerned for his frenemy’s well-being. Kyle was falling against him with laughter at absolutely everything, his smile wider than he had ever witnessed. It made him a bit sad that the happiest he had seen this boy was in rare form, though he wasn’t complaining about Kyle’s bony fingers curling against his bicep for support.

“Believe me, Kyle, I am thrilled to see that the stick is out of your ass,” Eric began, concern laced in his tone. “But, isn’t what your drinking particularly awful for you?”

“Don’t rain on my parade, okay?” Kyle slurred, leaning into Eric’s face and inadvertently making his heart skip a beat. “You’re jus’ jealous that I’m havin’ a good time an’ you’re still all borin’ and sober.”

“Yeah, totally jealous that I’m not slobbering on someone right now,” Eric scoffed. He placed steady hands on Kyle’s slim waist and pinched his eyebrows together. “Seriously, you should sit down.”

“Cartman—I am awesome, chill out.” Kyle assured, lifting his hand towards the brunette and squinting his eyes. “Where’s your nose? Oh, nerr mind, I got it!” the intoxicated redhead cheered before poking the tip of his button nose. “I’m just gon’ go find another drink, okay?”

“No, no, no,” Eric disagreed and swooped after the retreating Kyle. He took his arm and reeled him back in to where he and Craig remained (although, Craig had someone managed to fall asleep in the lawn chair he occupied).

“Hey, I’m thirsty!”

“And the last thing you need is more alcohol,” Eric told him, leading him by his shoulders into the chair beside his snoozing friend. Eric asked himself what it was about this particular boy that made him want to look after him, something he did not do for even Kenny, who was MIA with Butters. He hated that he hated the idea of Kyle being hurt in some way.

And after a while, he definitely was. The shaking only began after Kyle complained about a stomachache. Eric would simply shush the boy as he Googled the effects of alcohol on diabetics and simultaneously kicked himself for _caring_ so much. Before he could pull a satisfying answer from the world-wide web Kyle surged forward and emptied the contents of his stomach. 

“Ah, fuck,” Eric exclaimed with a scrunched nose. His eyes lingered over the pool of foamy bile before checking on its owner. Kyle was sickeningly pale and holding his tummy. “Kyle?”

The redhead replied only with a moan, throwing his curly head back and preparing himself to vomit again. He muttered something that the sober one couldn’t make out right away. After a few more incoherent mumbles and burping he finally understood, “I need to go home,”

Eric shut his phone and stood to his feet, leaning over and carefully scooping up the smaller boy and helping him to his feet. “C’mon, I’ll take you to your dorm.” He was still unsure how to actually help him, but he wouldn’t let him fall into a coma or however diabetics worked.

“For a smartass, you’re really stupid tonight,” Eric sighed on escorting him out of the frat-house, still full of bumbling idiots losing their minds and virginity.

“Why… Why’re you helping me?” Kyle wondered weakly.

Eric considered Kyle’s pallor cheeks and the beads of sweat cascading down his forehead. How could someone still look perfect all sweaty and ill? “You may be a bitch, but I’m not gonna let you die.”

Kyle smirked. “I thought you didn’t care about me.”

Eric replied only with a small smile. After successfully leading Kyle out of the house they were hit once again by the chilly temperatures of the Colorado night. A quick glance at his phone told him it was nearly eleven. _Wow, party animals_ , he thought cynically.

Kyle’s condition became increasingly worse during the journey to their dorm. His communication abilities reduced to only groans and Eric was very worried that he was going to puke all over his new Adidas. With a firm hold on his sick companion, his slim body pressed to his side. He could feel that Kyle’s entire body was shaking. While his knowledge of his metabolic disease was limited, he was certain that was not a good sign.

“I can’t do that righ’ now,” Kyle’s high-pitched voice slurred as they approached the steps of the dorm.

Eric huffed, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Stairs,” Kyle spat in reply. “My legs are noodle.”

“Should’ve thought about that before you guzzled down enough alcohol to get someone twice your size drunk,” Eric murmured. He continued to steer Kyle towards the steps but he went limp and pouted. “Really? You’re gonna do this now? I am so not carrying you.”

“Then’ll just stay down here all night.” Kyle concluded, plopping himself onto the floor at an alarming rate. He didn’t seem to notice when his tailbone met the carpet.

“Seriously?” Eric scoffed. “I guess you don’t want to take your medicine and live.”

Kyle shrugged. “Who cares?”

“Don’t get all emo on me now. Get your ass up!”

“Leave me alone, I didn’t even ask for your help.” Kyle complained and turned on his side.

“Well, you got it anyway, asshole.” Eric retorted. He bent his knees and snaked his arms under Kyle’s knees and arms. Lifting him was easy, thanks to the fact that he was under 140 pounds. He snickered at what he must have looked like carrying a full-grown dude bridal style. Despite this, he continued to Kyle’s dorm to correct his glucose before he passed out or required a hospital visit. He vowed that he would never tell anyone about this, not even Kyle when he sobered up.

“Y’know what I think?” Kyle slurred, staring at Eric’s annoyed expression as he clung to his hefty chest.

“No.” Eric admitted in annoyance as he ascended to Kyle room.

“I think you have a _crush_ on me.” He sang lazily.

Eric smirked, shrugged nonchalantly. “I think everyone knows that.”

“So why don’t you ask me out instead of”—Kyle interrupted himself with a burp that he was worried would turn into another bought of throwing-up—“Instead of being a dick.”

“Emotional honesty isn’t really my shtick,” Eric retorted with a huff, planting Kyle back on the ground, a steadying hand remaining around his hips. “Got your key?”

“Pocket,” Kyle confirmed as he adorably rubbed his nose.

His caretaker cocked an eyebrow. “Are you expecting me to take it out of your pants myself?”

“These don’t work.” Kyle wiggled his fingers lazily.

Eric stared at him in disbelief before he dug his fingers into Kyle’s skinny, light denim jeans to retrieve a square, brass key. He muttered to himself while unlocking his dorm and leading Kyle to the bed. As soon as he met the mattress he collapsed against it and shut his eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep, I don’t know shit about diabetes.” Eric told him and peered around his ridiculously neat space for Kyle medical equipment. He had seen his cousin use it a couple times, but he remained unsure of what it was actually for or what it did.

“That lil’ back-back from Journey’s,” Kyle muttered, pointing a lazy finger at his desk before dropping his hand again. “Poke my finger and tell me the number.”

“Poke your finger? You mean prick?” Eric repeated under his breath after lifting up the mentioned bag. He unzipped it to reveal a small, rectangular meter and a black, finger-pricking device.

Kyle nodded, drooping eyes hooding the pupils that consumed his brown irises. The alcohol impaired a majority of his senses, but the intense tightness of his chest made him scrunch his nose in pain. In the back of his gradually sobering mind he knew that he was ten minutes away from the emergency room, but with another wave of bile rising within him and his surrounding appearing in blurry doubles, he was not worried about relaying that information to his caretaker.

Eric hurriedly plopped beside him on the bed and took his cold, clammy hand in his larger one. He bit a lip as he place the needle against the pad of Kyle’s finger and pressed the button. A small amount of blood pooled from the tiny opening in his pores and Eric was confused again. “What the hell do I do now?”

Kyle moaned, “You gotta put the strip-y thing in my meter thing and then tell me what number it is.”

The puzzlement remained. His concentration was becoming clouded with concern as they frantically searched for the _strip-y things_. Once he saw a small medicine bottle full of unused, half-inch long metallic stripes he hastily removed one and placed it in the meter as his cousin, Melvin had, done. He then slid the oozing red substance against it and waiting for a number to be calculated _. 50 mg/dL._ “What do I do when you’re at fifty?”

“Fifty?” Kyle wondered lazily. “Oh shit. I need candy.”

“Candy? Dude, you just puked everywhere—“

“I’m really low…” Kyle argued, and he was about to be even lower. His eyes went wide and he cupped his hand over his lips.

“Kyle?” Eric addressed him slowly. “Shit, are you gonna puke again? God fucking damn it, hold on,”

The brunette rushed to his feet in pursuit of a trash-bin or something to catch Kyle’s vomit. Thankfully, he was able to get it to Kyle just in time for him to expel the small amount of alcohol and stomach acid left of his mouth. Eric turned away. Kyle may have been cute with a red nose, sweaty curls, and tired eyes, but even he was not attractive whilst hurling his guts out.

After a minute Kyle slumped back against the mattress with tears stinging his eyes. Massive regret began to plague his half-cognizant mood. “Why did I do this to myself?”

“It’s okay, I’m gonna take care of you.” Eric assured, not sure where the promise was coming from, but there was no time to sugarcoat his caring behavior. Besides, Kyle would likely forget him being attentive in the morning. “What should I get you to eat?”

Kyle paused for a moment before telling him with a breathy exhale, “I have Pepsi in the fridge.”

Eric perked his head to the side. “Is that such a good idea right now? There was at least a little bit of Coke in your puke.”

“Yes, I need sugar.” Kyle told him.

Eric wasn’t about to question the kid who actually had to deal with being diabetic his entire life. He stood up and shuffled to the mini-fridge beneath the small sink that was identical to his own. He removed an ice-cold can of Pepsi, returned to Kyle’s side, and popped the tab. He cupped the back of the boy’s neck, trying to ignore how much he loved feeling his soft ringlets between his fingers, and lifting him into and upright position. “Here,” his tone was soft, watching Kyle’s chapped lips curl around the edge of the aluminum container. He took slow sips until the can was half empty.

“Put my pump on 100,” Kyle managed as he let his head fall against the mattress again.

This task was easier for Eric to comprehend for some reason. He brushed Kyle’s shirt away from his hip and examined his pump, adjusting the numbers then pulling it back down. He watched Kyle intently, incredibly nervous to discover if this would remedy the situation. Something about Kyle in physical danger tugged at his heart-strings, hard. He barely knew the guy, and all they did was bicker, but there was a part of him that almost needed him to be okay. He didn’t understand it at all, and frankly, it terrified him. If a diabetes malfunction was enough to make him stop, drop, and do whatever it took to get Kyle to safety, he wondered what else his crush was capable of.

As he watched the ill, adorable redhead drift off to sleep, he wasn’t sure. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: slight reference to gender dysphoria

How was it possible for absolutely every inch of him to hurt? With a blistering headache and stomach cramps that went along perfectly with his sore throat, Kyle decided that he was incapacitated for the day; and, perhaps the rest of the month _._ He kept the movement of his head slow and brief, barely casting his gaze far enough to see that it was already noon, which was the latest he had slept in in years. Kyle shut his eyes again and groaned at the day he wasted.

He desperately needed to concoct a better way to cope with the new stresses of a college life. While the effects of imbibing were not quite as severe the second time around, he could count out completing any productive tasks that day. The alcohol had absolutely drained him and made his blood-sugar tremendously low. He began to wonder how he ended up in the comfort of his own twin-mattress opposed to a hospital bed.

A confused, glazed stare scanned the room, finding nothing out the ordinary between a snoozing Clyde and a pile of dirty clothes beside his bed. Finally, he spotted Eric Cartman passed out with his head on Clyde’s desk. He started blinkingly at his rival as vague recollections of the drunken night came to his mind at an underwhelming rate. He knew that he must have had a low blood-sugar from all the alcohol and puking, but how he didn’t die was something that he was having a hard time putting together. Eric or Clyde aiding him seemed like slim possibilities.

“Clyde,” Kyle addressed his roommate. He winched, realizing too late that it hurt to talk.

Clyde was out cold, but Eric was not. After a few more attempts from Kyle to awaken his roommate, the only teenager without a hang-over stirred. Immediately Eric was alarmed by where he had fallen asleep—he planned to go home and let Clyde and Kyle be left with the mystery of how they both ended up safely tucked into their beds. Now that he was discovered he would be forced to perform some impressive downplaying to satisfy his bruised ego.

“Cartman?” Kyle’s small voice strained.

“Too fucking early.” Eric moaned in response, rubbing his tired eyes with his thumb and index finger.

Kyle scoffed in agreement and tried in vain to sit up. He managed to get his wobbly arms to support his dead weight, but they collapsed when all the blood rushed to his head. He whined, “I feel like I got hit by a train. And then it exploded and spewed my guts all over a highway that cars are still passing through.”

Eric smirked, “Now I understand why you never have any fun.”

Kyle inhaled heavily, “I don’t even have enough energy to tell you to shut the fuck up, so just please do.”

“Go away, please… She’s mine…” Clyde grumbled, still deep in slumber, eyebrows scrunching together. He turned to face the wall and continued to mutter incoherent things.

“This kid still talks in his sleep?” Eric asked, scrutinizing Clyde with a bemused expression.

“Occasionally. I assume it’s a reoccurring nightmare about Bebe leaving him.” Kyle elaborated.

Eric nodded. “Huh. Usually my nightmares aren’t that realistic.”

Kyle snorted, perking his head up and narrowing his eyes at the other boy across the room. “What are you doing here, Cartman?”

“Excellent question,” Eric mumbled under his breath, then louder. “Well, you had your whole diabetic panic attack thing, and you begged me to take you here. Then, stay with you and make sure you didn’t, like, slip into a coma or whatever. Then Bebe dropped off Clyde and he was still pretty hammered, so I stayed and took videos of him. Then I fell asleep.”

Kyle bit a lip. His version of the story didn’t exactly match those flashes of memories he had, but he didn’t call him out on it. He just smiled to himself and stared up at the ceiling. “Why didn’t you have anything to drink?”

“I don’t drink.” Eric answered a little too quickly.

Naturally, Kyle’s curiosity was aroused. He scrutinized Eric’s flustered expression, “Why not?”

He shrugged, “Just don’t see what’s so good about it. It tastes gross and makes you stupid.”

Kyle saw his point, “Yeah, but it takes your mind off things for a little.”

Eric scoffed. “So does watching a funny movie, you fucking emo.”

This position on the consumption of alcohol made Kyle question the other boy considerably. Watching him slowly stand up from the chair and search the room for his shoes, Kyle was desperately trying to think of ways to make him stay and learn about why he was against it and why he helped him that night. He wondered if it possible that Eric wasn’t an empty shell of an eighteen year old boy that cares about nothing but himself. “It surprises me that you of all people are anti-drinking.”

“Why’s that?” Eric questioned as he stepped into his tennis shoes.

“Your lack of a moral compass, mostly,” Kyle answered, and the other boy couldn’t disagree. “Seriously, have you ever tried it?”

“Nope, and I don’t plan on it. I’ve seen enough drunk shitheads in my life to know that it’s basically asking someone to take advantage of you.” Eric was very uncomfortable with this topic, and Kyle could now see that as blush was rising in his cheeks. “You’re lucky I’m a nice person occasionally. You owe me big time for helping you home.”

Kyle scrunched his nose, “I owe you for doing something that a decent human being should do by helping someone with diabetes not keel over at a frat house and die?”

“Exactly, I’m glad we agree. I’ll let you write a paper for me or something one day.” Eric said with a wink before vacating Kyle’s living space and heading back to his own.

Kyle sighed through his nose. Eric was such a frustrating person, and impossible to read. He was like a retractable onion; just when you had pulled a layer back, he would snap back into place and reset himself.

It was an indisputable fact that he aided Kyle in his intoxicated and helpless state. Perhaps it was the fatigue and the unnatural pain in every portion of his body talking, but Kyle was particularly interested in discovering just why someone as cynical and seemingly heartless as Eric would make any kind of effort for him.

_

“It isn’t gone yet?” Henrietta grumbled on returning to their shared dorm room.

Butters peered up from her laptop to acknowledge her roommate before glancing back at her friend that resided in her bed. After far too many drinks, a sober Butters was left with a ridiculously intoxicated Kenny, who even managed to obtain the attention of completely wasted peers with his loud singing and laughing and stumbling into things. She had no clue where he stayed at the school, so she decided to bring him back to her (thankfully) empty dorm room, where he sobbed for a half-hour straight and told her some horrific details of his terrible home-life back in South Park before passing out cold just in time for Butters’s roommate to come back from the coffee shop down the street and wonder why a ‘fuckboy’ was in their room.

“No, he’s still sleepin’. He had a real long night.” Butters frowned in response.

Henrietta was much less sympathetic towards the unconscious Kenny. She approached the side of the bed and lifted her foot, nudging his stomach harshly. Butters furrowed her eyebrows and stood, confidence wavering as she stood up for her friend, “I-I really don’t think that’s necessary…”

As Kenny ascended into coherency his features scrunched up in distaste for the pressure on his tummy. He moaned and slowly lifted an eyelid. The minimal sunlight that broke through the currents was enough to make him flinch.

The goth was satisfied with her completed mission and turned to Butters while stashing a packet of cigarettes from her nightstand in her bra. “Get this conformist asshole out of the room before I get back from my smoke-break.”

Butters briefly wondered why she left for this particular smoke break considering she habitually chain-smoked in their dorm, but she swiftly became preoccupied with the now awakened Kenny. She fluttered to his side and grinned sheepishly, “I’m sorry about my roommate, Ken. Well, she ain’t all bad, but she can sure be…”

“Intense?” Kenny guessed with a small laugh as he forced himself upright. His headache could have been worse, and he was gradually adjusting to the illumination of the room. He scanned his surroundings through squinted eyes and frowned. “I really am in your dorm, aren’t I?”

“Yeah.” Butters answered with a little giggle. She was really enjoying Kenny’s grogginess, with his blond waves even messier than usual, a dopey expression on his face, and a gravelly voice. He was just about the only person she thought could pull off bags under their eyes.

The boy gave her a half-amused, half-guilty smile, “Was I bad?”

Butters pursed her lips, casting her gaze away. “Well…”

“Jesus Christ, did I try to have sex with a toaster again?”

“What?” Butters asked in bafflement.

Kenny sighed in relief. “I’ll take that as a no and move on. What did I do?”

“At the party, I’m pretty sure you took all of the shots, then you did a karaoke to some nineties rap song on a coffee table, and when the frat guys asked you to get down you offered blow jobs, and when they said no, you said the phrase ‘Let me live my life’ about thirty times. But, you kept singing and jumping on things anyway and when the same guys asked you to leave I didn’t know where your dorm was and you couldn’t remember and so I brought you here. And, you cried for a little while, and told me some real sad stuff before you passed out.”

Kenny cringed at himself. “Shit, I’m sorry, Butters. Drunk Kenny is the worst Kenny.”

“No, it’s okay! At the very least, it was awful funny to watch you try and break-dance.”

“Oh, god.” Kenny groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He prayed he was not on anyone’s Snapchat story. “Well, thanks for looking after me, babe.”

Butters blushed at the pet name, her smile widening. “My pleasure.”

Kenny’s eyes lingered on her pretty face, which he could definitely get used to waking up to. “Have you eaten lunch?”

“Oh, not yet. I was workin’ on some homework. Are you hungry? I got some snacks and stuff,” Butters stood to look through her stash of junk-food.

Kenny said, “How about you let me take you out instead? As a thank you for putting up with my bullshit,”

“You don’t have to do that! It was no trouble at all, honest.” Butters assured him with an unwavering, genuine smile.

Kenny’s grin returned as she proceeded to rummage through her cabinet. Wondering why everyone couldn’t be as sweet and generous as her, he added presumptuously, “Then how about we make it a date instead of a thank you?”

Butters ceased her actions and threw Kenny a glance over her shoulder. His suggestion made her tummy tickle, but her nerves kicked in. Dates led to relationships and relationships led to kissing and kissing led to sexual contact and that led to outing herself. Perhaps she was over-analyzing. Kenny looked perfectly innocent, staring at her expectantly with his kind, brown eyes and tousled hair. Asking for a date did not instantly imply that he wanted to have sex with her.

“A-Alright…” She managed bashfully and glanced down at her over-sized t-shirt and Soffe shorts. “I should probably get dressed first...”

Kenny smirked. “Go on, I don’t mind watching.”

Butters face flushed red, eyes shooting wide open. “What?”

Kenny chuckled at his own joke, standing to his feet and stretching his lips. “I’m kidding.” He promised before striding towards her and planting a kiss on her forehead. Their eyes locked momentarily, her sky blue gaze making his chest tighten. “I’ll wait outside.”

“O-Okay...” Butters breathed, distracted by the proximity of her lips from Kenny’s.

Kenny lingered for another moment before striding out into the hallway. Butters let out a happy sigh and skipped to her dresser. She was overcome with joy as she picked through her clothes. She knew college would be a fresh start, but she never thought it would be this great, especially given her shitty high school experience. Now she not only felt genuinely safe and validated, but she also was about to go on a date with a _boy_. She had never felt so content.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: reference to gender dysphoria and slight reference to child neglect

Derek’s Diner was a quaint local restaurant that thrived on lazy, hungover college kids that craved greasy hamburgers and watered-down sodas. Butters thought it was absolutely adorable, and the fact that it had managed to stay afloat since 1964 with a Waffle House just down the street made it feel sentimental for some reason. She liked the authentic feel of the creaking wooden booths and extensive bar with red, spinning stools.

Kenny supposed that the diner was an alright place to hang out if you wanted friendly service and a cheap cup of coffee, but his sole focus was his cute date. She was clad in a pink pullover and had let her bright hair lay down to her shoulders. Her bright eyes were shining as they darted around the room. It was amazing how happy a simple thing like Derek’s Diner could make her.

“So, I gotta ask you something I’ve been thinking about for a while now.” Kenny admitted after the waitress took their order and laminated menus.

Butters swallowed. “Yeah?”

“Is Butters your real name, or is that just kind of a nick-name that stuck?”

This question made her panic a bit more than it would some. She had always considered Butters her ‘real name’, but the name her parents chose, Leopold _,_ flashed through her mind. “Uh, well, since my last names Stotch and I live with a bunch of hicks, people have pretty much been calling me Butters my whole life, but technically, my real name’s Leo-Leah.” It was split second decision, but she was satisfied with her quick conceptualization of a feminine version of her dead name, “Leah,”

Kenny smiled. “That fits you really well,”

“Thanks,” she replied, “Butters is just what I’m used to going by.”

“I think both suit you.” He told her.

She grinned at him. “Are you just Kenny?”

“Kenneth, but, that sounds really boring. The only people who called me that was an old foster family, and Cartman uses it when he wants to piss me off.”

Butters giggled, “It doesn’t sound boring! I think it’s cute.”

Kenny shrugged. “I’m just surprised my own hick parents put the long version on my birth certificate. All they’ve ever called me is _Keenie_ ,”

The girl frowned slightly at the mention of foster families and parents. After hearing some upsetting content from Kenny’s intoxicated state the night before she decided she didn’t like them very much. Kenny caught onto this shift in demeanor immediately and gave her a slight frown, “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothin’! It’s just, y’know… Your parents…” Butters trailed off awkwardly, wishing she had kept her mouth shut on the subject.

Kenny recalled that Butters mentioned he had said some _sad stuff_ while under the influence. “Fuck, did I tell you about them? Jesus, I’m an emotional drunk.”

Butters rested her chin in her hand. “Maybe not everything, but enough… But, if you ever need to talk about that stuff sober, I’m here for you, Ken. You’ve had a real rough run.”

The waitress returned momentarily to drop their beverages on the table before scurrying off again. Kenny shrugged as he lifted his straw and began to carefully tear the paper in order to form a weapon, “There’s honestly not much to talk about. My parents are druggies and beat each other up all the time. Sometimes us. But, that’s why I’m here doing a two-year program. So my little sister can get the hell out of there when I get my own place and my future family doesn’t have to live on the wrong side of the tracks.”

Butters grinned at the casual nobility in Kenny’s words. “You don’t have to downplay it, Ken. You parents done some awful things.”

He shrugged and put the straw to his lips, blowing air into one side to make the white paper shoot out the other end. It hit Butters right in the eye before she even had time to protest. Kenny laughed triumphantly, “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

Butters rubbed her eye and pouted dramatically, “Not if you keep hittin’ me in the face!”

“You gotta give me props for my aim, though.” Kenny chuckled while properly placing the plastic tube into his cup of lemon water.

Butters gave in, “It was a pretty good shot.”

After sharing a meal and making each other crack up laughing so loud they got looks from the minimal fellow customers, they headed back for Butters’ dorm so she could complete her homework. It was a couple blocks away so Kenny offered to walk her. His general dizziness and headache resided to a dull pain, thus becoming tolerable.

“I’m surprised I’m not totally whacked out still,” Kenny verbalized his surprise. “Hell, I barely even remember the party.”

“When we got to my dorm I had you drink a lot of water, so maybe that helped.” Butters suggested the possibility.

Kenny granted her a cheesy grin and nudged her with his shoulder, “D’wah, you’re already taking care of me in my drunken stupor. How romantic.”

Butters flushed and laughed lightly as Kenny took her hand in his. His skin was rough and dry, but its size, warmth, and the fact that it was _him_ sent chills down her spine. “I’m just glad I could help.”

“Has anyone told you that you’re the sweetest person in the world?” Kenny inquired flirtatiously.

Butters took a moment to think on it. “Well, no, but I had a teacher, said I was sweet once.”

Kenny chuckled softly, “Well, Leah, you are the sweetest person in the world. I honestly don’t even deserve for you to give me the time of day, let alone sleep in your bed and be looked after.”

Butters grinned at the use of her new name, which made her feel happy and unique. “That’s nonsense, of course you do! You’re the sweetest person _I’ve_ ever met. Plus, you bought me lunch, so we’re even.”

“Right,” Kenny chuckled. His brown gaze fell to their interlocked fingertips. It gave him not only butterflies, but a sense of completion and protectiveness, as if this she was most important girl on the planet and he could never let anyone make her feel otherwise. It was a feeling he didn’t want to lose.

So, when they returned to Butters’s dorm Kenny stopped her before the door of 10A to ask her a question. He grew slightly anxious despite the relatively casual conversation that ensued prior to the moment. They had only chatted nonstop for two weeks, but it felt like the right time to him. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?” Her eyes gleamed as she watched his expression turn vaguely serious.

Kenny took her hand in his and ran his thumb across her knuckles as he scanned his brain for the right words to say. “If I asked you to be my girlfriend, what would you say?”

Butters’s heart definitely stopped beating after considering Kenny’s words. There was a lot more pressure than he could comprehend that he had put on her by asking a seemingly simple question. The cycle was happening just as she feared; dates led to relationships and relationships led to kissing and kissing led to sexual contact and she wasn’t. While she deeply enjoyed Kenny’s presence and would have loved to be his girlfriend, she desperately needed to slow down. Even dating someone like Kenny wasn’t worth losing the environment of acceptance she was thriving in.

“Uh, I-I don’t think I can right now, Kenny…” Butters answered, going against every other part of her which begged to accept and be happy with him.

“Gotcha,” Kenny swallowed, dropping her hand as his stomach churned with embarrassment. This is why his motto had been _hump and dump_ up until he met Butters.

“No, I’m sorry, I just…” Any explanation completely evaded her when Kenny’s disappointed, honey eyes met hers. He looked like a sad puppy and she just wanted to hug him and change her mind, though she couldn’t. Instead she shook her head and turned away. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait, it’s alright—“ he tried to explain, but Butters retreated into the dorm room and left him standing there, feeling like an idiot.

“Well fuck me,” He groaned under his breath before heading out of Jefferson Hall, shoulders slumped with defeat.

_

It was a bit concerning how easy it was to retrieve a bottle of cheap whiskey on a college campus, especially for a barely legal teenager. Nonetheless, Kyle tucked the square, glass bottle under his armpit as took strides towards Eric and Kenny’s dorm. He had a mission that could go two ways and a prayer or solitude with Eric.

On approaching room 20B he raised his free hand to tap on the wooden door. A few moments later the door was open to reveal only Eric in the doorway. He wore a plain red t-shirt and a perplexed expression. “May I help you, Jewboy?”

“Hello to you, too, Fatass.” Kyle greeted with faux cheerfulness. “Aren’t you gonna invite me in?”

Eric raised his eyebrows and stepped to the side. “You did a good job of that yourself.”

Kyle shrugged and bustled into the dorm. When Eric secluded them from the public eye by shutting the heavy door, Kyle pulled out the bottle of alcohol and smirked at the shorter boy. Eric stared back blankly. “You have a bottle of regret. Congratulations. What part of this equation am I?”

“The drunk one,” Kyle answered.

“Do you really think getting drunk is a good idea after last night?” Eric scolded mockingly, placing his hand on his hip and waggling his finger. “I told you next time I’d have to take away your Jew gold, young man.”

Kyle groaned, “I hate you on so many levels and in so many different ways. But, no, I’m not getting drunk. I’m still kind of out of whack from missing my Levemir and vomiting. However, you will be imbibing this disgusting bottle of alcohol because you’ve never been drunk before.”

Eric scoffed, “I’ve never been drunk for a reason, dumbass. I’m not about to do it now because you told me to.”

“I just don’t get it! Why are you, the brashest and most offensive asshole I’ve met, refusing to get drunk?”

“Why do you, an asshole that I rip on constantly, care about whether or not I drink?”

Kyle set the bottle on Eric’s desk and shrugged. “Because I’m nosy. But I’m really cute, so you should at least tell me _why_.”

“You do make a convincing argument,” Eric said, rubbing his chin. “Alright, alright, I’ll tell you… Growing up, my daddy was an alcoholic. He beat me real good and spanked me long and hard if I misbehaved. He called me his kitten and whenever I was naughty—“

“Oh my god, dude!” Kyle cringed at the imagery, “I’m being serious!”

“Oh, well, in that case, I am seriously not discussing this with you.” He assured Kyle as he reassumed his position on his bed.

“Okay, fine. If you talk to me like a normal, civil person about this, then I’ll do something you want me to do.”

“I honestly don’t get why you care so much about this.”

Kyle shrugged. “Because we’re pseudo friends and it’s gonna bother me until I know.”

Eric sighed, “Alright, what are you gonna do for me?”

The redhead bit a lip, attempting to concoct a form of retribution for this exchanged knowledge. “I’ll give you a big hug.”

“Interesting, yes, let’s see… I hate physical contact, and you, so, no thanks. How about you do my online statistics homework?”

Kyle scoffed, “How about I help you with it?”

Eric narrowed his eyes, “How about you do a majority of the work and just tell me how to do it for future reference?”

“How about I tell you how to do it and then you do it yourself?”

“You’re breaking my balls here, Kyle. It’s either you do the work, or you don’t get to hear whatever sob story I’m gonna make up so you leave me alone about this.”

“Is it really so out there for me to want to know why _you_ don’t drink?”

“Actually, yes. I just don’t like it, I don’t get the appeal.”

“Are you allergic or something? Did a drunk driver hit you? Is your dad actually an alcoholic? What is it?” Kyle pressed, searching Eric’s face for a reaction and finding a flash of pain. He was getting somewhere.

“Don’t fucking worry about it, okay? Now do my stupid homework or get out.” Eric huffed indignantly. Kyle was hitting a little close to home for his comfort.

“Look, I’m just curious, that’s all. You’re obviously a good person trying to act like a hardass and I want to know why.” Kyle reasoned.

Eric laughed, “Is that what you think?”

“That’s what I know. A shitty person wouldn’t help me across campus, up a flight of stairs, into my bed, and correct my sugar like you did.” Kyle retorted, challenging.

The accusation made Eric slightly flustered, but did not back down from his position. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Maybe I just didn’t want you to die so I could still have someone to make fun of and degrade.”

Kyle shook his head, bouncy curls flopping with the movement. “What’s wrong with admitting you care about me?”

“I don’t care about you.” Eric corrected, a bit too soon, perhaps. “I just… I do the right thing sometimes, okay? I’m pretty awesome.”

Kyle scoffed and gazed fixedly at his bizarre, enigma of a companion. “You know, when normal people have a crush, they tell them they like them. They flirt with them. They ask them out. They go out, they kiss, yada yada. Maybe you should try that.” With that, Kyle took one last look at the bottle of alcohol, “I’ll leave that there if you change your mind. Not just about drinking, though.”

Eric’s heart thumped erratically in his chest as Kyle exited his dorm after dropping that kind of bomb on him. That weighed on him almost as much as how nice Kyle’s ass looked in his jogger sweatpants as he walked away.


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as Kenny wandered into the room, Eric picked up on his foul mood. Shoulders slumped and general pouting were the tells of his friend’s truly unhappy moments. He learned this from spending virtually every day of his life with him, although Kenny rarely let himself get to that point.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” Eric questioned, feigning for listlessness as he engaged in a game of _Madden_ with Clyde, who was sat in his desk chair beside him.

The blond let out a deep exhale and tossed himself onto his mattress. He laced his fingers over his chest and droned, “Feelings.”

Eric smirked. _That_ was relatable. “Sounds pretty gay.”

“It’s actually not for once,” Kenny snorted. “The first girl I’m super interested in turned me down.”

“HA! Interception, bitch!” Clyde exclaimed loudly, his enthusiasm falling when he glanced over to see Kenny’s somewhat annoyed, absolutely saddened expression. “Sorry,”

“Come on, Tom,” Eric sighed at his virtual quarterback before asking, “Who?”

“Butters,” Kenny sighed. After going out on a limb and getting rejected, Kenny let himself pout behind the dorm building and smoke half a pack of cigarettes before rejoining society. 

Eric hummed and nodded. “That sucks, I guess. She seems kind of lame, though.”

Kenny ignored his friend’s irritating response and bit a lip. He began scanning his brain for reasons why she would have turned him down as Eric and Clyde returned to intermittently muttering obscenities and cheering (a full minute consisting of Clyde chanting ‘DEFENSE’ and neighing to symbolize the Broncos). Perhaps it was merely moving too quickly for her.

“Maybe it’s because she’s transginger and she doesn’t want you to find out.” Eric somewhat amended his original reaction to Kenny’s crush.

Kenny lifted an eyebrow at his friend, completely caught off guard, “Trans-what?”

“Y’know, transginger,” Eric repeated, “Do you not know?”

Clyde snapped his neck between the pair of friends, “She’s what?”

“No, I know she’s trans, but why the fuck do you think it’s called that? It’s trans _gender_ , you dumb fuck,”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

“Wait, woah, woah, woah,” Clyde paused the game and made a ‘time-out’ gesture with his hands, “Butters is transgender?”

Eric addressed his lack of knowledge with a casual shrug, “Well, yeah, you can’t tell?”

“I guess not, I had no idea! I don’t think Bebe knows, either, she probably would’ve told me,”

Kenny quickly brushed off Clyde’s epiphany and ignored their slightly and unwittingly problematic debate of Butters’s gender. Despite his friend’s idiocy, Kenny could see his point. If Butters was nervous that Kenny would be less than accepting of her gender identity, her hesitation to enter a romantic relationship with him would be equally understandable to feeling rushed into things. Either way, Kenny attempted to swallow his disappointment and tried to decide whether or not to give her space or concoct an alternative plan to make Butters his girl.

Kenny glanced back over at the gamers, “Hey, don’t go telling people she’s trans, okay? I don’t know who knows, and I don’t think she’s actually told anyone.”

“Why does it matter? Other people can probably tell anyways,” Eric replied.

“It matters because it isn’t our business. Just use that small amount of decency you have to keep this between us three, alright?”

“Yeah, man, totally, I’ll keep my mouth shut,” Clyde assured with a thumbs up.

Eric sighed jokingly, “Whatever, I guess I’ll cancel the billboard.”

_

Even before Kyle approached his dorm room, he was surprised at the lack of the sound effects of Clyde and Craig having a _Call of Duty_ marathon emitting through their shared room. Their voices were nearly identical, but he could always tell who was who based on the groaning in defeat and vulgarly expressing triumph. At that point it still annoyed Kyle to no end—especially when sleep was part of the equation—but he told himself that since it had only been three weeks, he would probably get used to it. He supposed Clyde had gone elsewhere, fully cognizant of his refusal to waste a weekend night.

He had never been more thankful for it to be a calm and party-free Saturday night. While he vowed to never drink or hang out with people again, he remained on edge—perhaps even more so than the day he spent wallowing in the pain of his defective pancreas. Missing his best friend, his brother, the idea of Stanford University life all played a large part in his mood, but components of his new life certainly didn’t help.

After he approached Eric about his speculations, Eric had taken about two-thousand steps back. He tossed a few snarky smirks and half-hearted jokes towards him occasionally, but there were no more implied flirtations and staring-at-each-other-for-too-long kinds of incidences. Kyle didn’t know exactly what to make of this. Logically, he never expected anything from Eric, especially this early in knowing him, and considering his brash personality. Yet, he felt something in the base of his stomach every time he even thought of him. It was as if he had made a forbidden imprint on him that neither of them were actually allowed to act upon. It was a frustrating charade.

“Can you please stop showing me this?” Craig’s voice became audible as Kyle entered the dorm. He was surprised to find the boys merely watching television as opposed to smashing on a game controller.

“Dude, wait, this is the best part!” Clyde groaned defensively, pointing at the screen that showed a cast of Marvel’s superheroes preparing to fight one another.

Craig shot back, “I know, dude, since you got the DVD, _yesterday_ , we watched this one scene thirteen times. I want to see the rest of the movie.”

“Okay, okay, just hold on,” Clyde paused the television and spoke with a far off sigh at Black Widow frozen on the screen, “Scarlet Johansson looks unreal, man.”

Craig leaned over and yanked the remote from Clyde’s grasp, ignoring the protests he earned and allowing the program to play. The scene was a familiar one at first, with Clyde sprawled out in his office chair and Craig laying belly-down on his mattress; however, an addition to the picture was sitting nervously beside Craig with a to-go cup from Starbucks in his trembling hands.

“Tweek?” Kyle asked with a smile, though he already knew the answer.

The paranoid boy with messy yellow hair jumped when he heard someone addressing him and swiftly darted his large eyes to see who it was. They remained accompanied by dark circles that only seemed to worsen since high-school ended. However, he brightened up when he instantly recognized his fellow Fairplay resident. “Oh, hi, Kyle! Man, I haven’t seen you since graduation.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while.” Kyle grinned and as he set down his things.

“You two know each other?” Craig questioned, peering up at the coffee-addict. When he did so Kyle noticed something strange—he looked _interested_. It wasn’t a half-hooded glare or distant gaze.

“We both lived in Fairplay growing up. I’m pretty sure us and Stan are the only ones who actually _went_ to college, though.” Tweek cracked the joke only Kyle understood.

He chuckled, “Yeah, he’s doing really awesome in UCLA. I’m pretty sure he’s already found, like, eight girlfriends, too. Straight people,”

Tweek groaned. “Tell me about it.”

Clyde tossed his hands up in the air, “Wow, you guys. Just because I’m outnumbered doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.”

“Shut up, only your kind would be obnoxious enough to re-watch one scene just to check out a chick's ass.”

“Oh, fuck off, I see the way you look at Chris Evans.” Clyde rolled his eyes.

Craig narrowed his eyes at the screen in focus. “Everyone looks at Chris Evans like that.”

Tweek giggled at Craig, making a toothless smile spread his lips. It was the first time Kyle had ever seen his monotone acquaintance crack a grin. “So, Tweek, you’re here for an art thing, right?”

“Right! It’s really fun—only, my professor keeps getting mad at me for ruining canvases when we paint. I still don’t have a steady hand, and then he yells at me, and it’s just… A lot of pressure,” Tweek breathed, speaking as if he was having a war flashback. “How’s lawyer-ing?”

Kyle chuckled, shrugged, “A lot better if I was in Stanford, but I can’t complain forever.”

“Yes you can.” Clyde droned.

Tweek forced himself to frown, “I’m sorry, Kyle. Did you lose your scholarships just because of that night with Jimmy and Pip?”

“Yeah,” Kyle winced and quickly shifted the topic. “So, are you two a thing?”

“Not yet.” Craig confirmed for both of them, not even looking up from _Civil War_.

The two words alone made Tweek fidget. He bit his lip to stop himself from smiling, “What he said.”

“Goals,” Kyle muttered before cringing at his response.

After settling into his bed, Kyle’s phone rang in his pocket. It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he decided to press the ‘answer’ button anyway. He pressed it to his ear and said a formal, “Hello?”

“Hey, Kyle,” A familiar voice responded from the other line. Kyle’s stomach did a flip-flop at the correct pronunciation of his name that came from Eric. “You remember last week when you got all stupid and I saved your life?”

He stifled a smile and cocked an eyebrow, although he knew Eric couldn’t see it. “It depends. What do you want?”

“Well, I was thinking, Jews are probably good at math. So, wanna come do my homework for me?”

“Absolutely not. Try again.”

Eric scoffed, “Fine, will you _help_ me with my homework?”

“What’s the magic word?” Kyle smirked.

He could _hear_ an eye roll. “Get your ass over here.”

“It was bacon, but that was close enough. I’ll be over in a minute, asshole.”

“See you then, dickface.”

The call disconnected before Kyle sighed and stretched his limbs. Clyde threw him a smirk. “Was that Cartman?”

“Yeah,” Kyle confirmed. “Why?”

Clyde shook his head, smug smile remaining. “No reason.”

After a quick change into a new, slightly baggy t-shirt, Kyle was down the hall and tapping on Eric and Kenny’s dorm room door. He was slightly nervous, considering his previously somewhat awkward encounters with Eric. The door was pulled ajar by Kenny, who granted him a charming smile. “Kyle! What brings your sexy ass here today?”

“Dude,” Kyle chuckled off the compliment and pointed at Eric. “Mainly wondering how that one got my number.”

Eric spun around in his chair after hearing a knock. He half-expected Kyle to not even show up considering the nature of their relationship; all he knew was he was floundering with overflowing statistic homework he could hardly comprehend. “It was easy. Kenny’s password is 1-2-3-4.”

“Dude! Stay out of my phone!” Kenny scoffed, stalking over to the other side of the room to rip his Blackberry out of Eric’s hand.

Eric laughed, “You’re just scared I’m gonna read your little flirtations with Butters.”

“No, I just don’t want you on my phone,” Kenny corrected, frowning at the subject. “She hasn’t even talked to me in a week.”

Kyle frowned at this, “Dude, really? Why?”

Kenny just shrugged and slumped down on his mattress again. “I asked her out and she freaked. I just want to talk to her, y’know? I’d be cool with just being friends.”

“Do you want me to talk to her for you?” Kyle offered.

He shook his head, smiling a little. “Nah, I’m a big boy. But thanks, Mama Kyle.”

“No problem.” Kyle told him, having grown used to the odd nickname he had earned for naturally slouching into the ‘mom-friend’ role in the new group dynamic. He then turned his attention towards Eric, whose pretty, differently colored stare was already resting on him. “Now, what the hell is so hard for you?”

“This,” Eric groaned and gestured towards his opened laptop screen. The redhead approached his side and squinted at the computer to see the online homework program he dreaded in high school. “You totally owe me one, so.”

“I shouldn’t _owe_ you, but I happen to be pretty good at proportions.” Kyle said leaned down beside him.

“Great, so, hop to it.” Eric told him with a smirk as he stood to allow Kyle to sit down.

Kyle took the seat with an eye roll, “Sit down and learn how to do this your own damn self.”

“I’m warning you now, I don’t pay attention to really lame shit like this, so you might just have to do it on your own.” Eric reasoned as he sat on the edge of his mattress.

“For fuck sakes, I’m not doing this for you.” Kyle repeated.

Kenny let out a laugh, “I swear to God, you two are so married.”

“He wishes,” The redhead scoffed.

When the actual work began, Eric immediately checked out. Granted, he did warn Kyle about the fact that he had the attention span of a goldfish. Kyle would ask a question, Eric would either not respond at all or with a _how the fuck should I know_. They even drove Kenny out of the room with their fussing and cussing.

The main cause of Eric’s lack of concentration, however, was the tutor himself. For some reason, he found Kyle most adorable in oversized t-shirts. Perhaps it was the fact that it showed just how petite he was or just that he was not in a button-down or sweater for once. Against his better judgement, he couldn’t shake the thoughts of wrapping Kyle up in his arms and holding him for hours. He knew he should’ve continued his plan to ignore his sassy crush, but he did truly need help with his homework. However, he also knew that deep down it was just an excuse to be with him again.

“You are impossible!” Kyle exclaimed in frustration after re-explaining a concept that Eric still did not seem to grasp. His patience was worn thin long before that point, and he was ready to toss the laptop right at Eric’s face.

He let out a chuckle, “You need to calm the fuck down! I ain’t paying you to be a little bitch.”

“You’re not _paying_ me at all! We’re done here. I hope you fail that class.” Kyle told him decisively before pushing away from the desk and standing.

“Wait,” Eric told him and grabbed his hand. He gave him the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could muster. “I’m sorry, Kyle.”

Kyle couldn’t help but smile as he glanced between their hands and Eric’s stupid cute face. He huffed and jutted out his hip, “Are you gonna fucking focus?”

“It’s not my fault you’re so cute. It’s distracting,” Eric let himself say with lessening regret when he saw Kyle’s cheeks become immediately invaded by blush. He felt his chest tighten, anxious as to how Kyle would respond to his blatant flirting. He recalled what he had told him a week prior but was still uneasy in general in the romance department—especially considering the fact that giving a semblance of a fuck about anyone was reserved for only his mother and Kenny until he met this damn redhead. He still did not believe in love at first sight, but he couldn’t keep himself away from Kyle. He was addicted.

“It’s not my fault you’re an asshole, but I have to put up with that anyway.” Kyle retorted with a smile and sat back down. He took another look at the same problem they had been discussing between fights for a half hour—number seven of twenty-five. “When’s this due?”

“Tomorrow.” Eric answered grimly.

“Dude! You should’ve asked me for help when you first got assigned.”

Eric shrugged, “I was still banking on you doing all the work.”

“Or it would’ve dented your ego.” Kyle guessed with a pointed brow.

“Possibly.” Eric grumbled in reply and flopped on his back against his bed. “Why don’t I just go to bed and you finish up? I mean, I half-did like nine problems.”

“You didn’t do any of the seven, you just pissed me off into finishing it for you.” Kyle corrected.

“Well, that seemed to be a pretty good system for us.”

“No, c’mon, dude, it isn’t that hard. Sit up and let’s get this done real quick.”

Eric let out an exaggerated yawn while wrapping himself in his duvet. “Nah, I think I’m just gonna go to bed. Night, Kyle. Let me know how you did in the morning.”

“Goddamn it,” Kyle grumbled and grabbed the brunette’s laptop from its place on the desk. He yanked the charging cable from the port and stomped to the bed. He plopped himself right beside the fake-snoozing boy and shined the bright screen on his face. “Finish your fucking homework!”

Eric groaned. “No, you just have to do it for me.”

“No, you just have to sit up and quit being a lazy fuck.”

“I’m not liking this attitude. You should really get the sand out of your vagina.” The fat boy suggested before closing his laptop shut.

“Cartman!” Kyle exclaimed. He slapped his hand over his face. “First of all, I have a penis, so stop telling me there’s sand in my vagina! Two, you didn’t fucking save your work! You’re going to have to do all that again! And I’m _not_ helping you this time.”

Eric sat up to reach his level and pulled the laptop from his lap, and tossed it to the ground carelessly. “Who fucking cares? I’ll still pass that class. That professor is two years older than us and has revolving hang-overs.”

“So why the hell did you call me over to help you?!” Kyle wondered angrily, glaring daggers at Eric’s face. They were closer then, just enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Perhaps he was confusing sexual tension for the sheer frustration of this idiotic boy in front of him, but there certainly was some kind of tingling feeling crawling up his spine.

Eric couldn’t answer right away, because the truth would embarrass him. “I feel like I’ve dropped the ball with pissing you off this week. I kinda missed you getting all hot and bothered.”

Kyle scoffed. “I really hope you only mean ‘hot and bothered’ in the sense of you pissing me the fuck off.”

“Maybe both.” Eric drawled. His nerves were burning away with the distance of Kyle’s face from his. It distracted him from even his own feelings and fears. He didn’t even realize he was reeling in nearer to Kyle’s lips, but nonetheless, some mysterious gravitational pull was drawing him in.

Kyle was cognizant of the situation and it made his stomach erupt with butterflies. However, he was also aware that Eric is the kind of spoiled child that is accustomed getting exactly what he wants when he wants it. He values himself far above some prize to be won to satisfy Eric’s egocentric tendencies. He surged forward gently and let his lips ghost over the other boy’s as he whispered, “Nice try. But it’s gonna take a lot more than a cliché help-me-study routine to get in my pants.”

With that he turned his head and pressed a lingering and somewhat condescending kiss to Eric’s chubby cheek. Eric was a confusing combination of intrigued, turned on, and absolutely infuriated as Kyle basically strutted out of his dorm room. He gritted his teeth, still chilled by the simple brush of Kyle’s lips against his.

Kyle had decided to play hard to get, and Eric was never one to back down from a challenge.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: reference to gender dysphoria

After only a month and a half of the college experience, Kenny was completely spent. He worked night shifts at Valvoline in order to maintain his daily, 7am to 2pm technical program at the college. He wished more than anything that he didn’t have to worry so much about money, but he was paranoid he would be working to pay off his debt for his education to become an electrician for years if he did not start as soon as possible.

Kenny came from an exceptionally poor family. He had Poptarts for breakfast, bologna sandwiches for lunch, and occasionally spaghetti for dinner. He had also been sent to a foster home at one point in his life when his parents were caught with hard drugs. Affording any form of higher education was never something he had considered, until he heard about technical schools and how much trade workers made. Luckily Ms. Cartman was nice enough to cosign his loan for school fees considering his parents had horrible credit (or no credit). While Kenny was determined to obtain a well paying job and break the cycle of poverty, he had begun to wish he had merely stayed planted in South Park and kept his jobs at the local car garage and Chinese restaurant. If going from high school to work was difficult, going from a college environment to work was doubly.

At a far too early hour in the morning for anyone to be alive, Kenny was trudging towards class with a hot cup of shitty coffee in his hand. He was not ready for an hour and a half long lecture and earnestly considered skipping. His spirits had been significantly low recently.

His cheap phone vibrated in his pocket. Expecting a compliant from Cartman, he groaned and tugged the device from his jeans. His listless gaze was quickly replaced by widened eyes when he saw the name Leah Stotch.

_Hey, Ken… I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you, it’s real mean of me. If there’s any chance of us still being friends meet me at Derek’s at 2:30?_

A smile pulled his lips. Despite hours of trying to convince himself that she was just a heartless bitch and he didn’t need her, he couldn’t help himself—he was so happy to hear from Butters. In fact, his spirits began to soar again, especially considering she remembered his small gap of time between class and work. His foul mood transformed into a halfway decent one. He replied with, _Ill be there_ and felt a lot better about sitting in class and listening to a sweaty guy go on and on about electricity.  
_

Butters was extraordinarily anxious as she sat alone in the diner. Memories of the last time she had come there with Kenny flashed through her mind, and they were excellent ones. They laughed and talked and caught feelings. She smiled sadly to herself in remembrance of why she had to turn him down, and what she had to confess.

It’s situations like these that were the hardest for Butters to cope with as a member of the transgender community. Kenny treats her like a girl, perceives her as a girl, yet because of her biology, he would not want her to be his girlfriend. These masculine limitations set her over the edge—wishing she could just cut them off herself with a pair of scissors.

But, she missed Kenny. She felt a genuine bond with him after only talking to him for two weeks. She didn’t want to let that go, even if that meant staying friends. She could handle that if it meant being able to send him random memes and call at three in the morning again.

Butters’s heart sped up when the bell rang, indicating that a customer had entered the restaurant. She immediately found Kenny stepping in, looking jaded, and very attractive in his coverall work uniform. She frowned and peered away, waiting for him to be the first to notice her. Their gazes met when she detected his presence beside her.

When blue met brown, nobody else would notice, but was as if her world fell back into balance. The stinging in Butters’s chest subsided immediately and only warm feelings replaced them.

Kenny’s soft smile showed that he felt it as well, despite his disheveled demeanor. “Hey, Leah.”

Butters grinned, breathing out, “Hey, Ken.”

“I assume this seat isn’t taken.” Kenny quipped as he occupied the opposite side of the booth. He let out a sigh before returning his consideration to her face. His eyebrows were arched in a questioning manner. “So…”

“So, I texted you to come meet me here.” Butters recapped. She felt some of that nervousness returning after the initial excitement of seeing Kenny again after a few weeks, but Kenny’s calming aura did make things less daunting. She cleared her throat, “I want to apologize. What I did was real rude...”

Kenny shook his head. “No it wasn’t. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I owe you an explanation,” Butters disagreed. “I flirted with you and I said I liked you a lot and then I just rejected you… But, I have a really good reason.”

She bit her lip and watched Kenny perk his head curiously at her. Things became difficult to articulate again as her throat seemed to close up and the walls seemed to close in. She was terrified of Kenny’s opinion of her becoming remotely poor. “I’m…” she started to say, but emotions got the better of her.

Butters felt that much stupider when tears stung her eyes. She chuckled indignantly at herself and used a purple thumbnail to wipe the corner of her eye, careful to work around her mascara. Kenny frowned, aware of what she was trying to convey and how hard it must be for her. He reached his hand out and scooped her free one in his grasp. It was delicate and soft just as he had remembered. He almost forgot how much he loved the feeling of her skin against his as well.

“Leah, I know.” He told her in order to make the process less painful for her.

Initially, it did not. Her stomach dropped and her lip trembled, “K-Know what…? Is it noticeable?”

Kenny shook his head, “No, baby. But even if it was, it doesn’t matter at all to me. You’re a beautiful girl that I would love to be with and nothing would change that.”

Butters scrunched her eyebrows together. She was amazed how they could talk about something without either of them having to actually say it, and amazed by his confession. “I’m not complaining, but I mean, Kenny…. I know most straight guys aren’t into that…”

He smirked, “You really shouldn’t assume people’s sexualities.”

She blushed, embarrassed, “Wh-What?”

“First of all, I play for both teams. Or, all teams,” Kenny assured her, then with a serious connotation, “But more importantly, I like you. I like everything about you. I don’t care what’s in your pants, how you dress, what you call yourself. You’re amazing and I really don’t want to miss out on knowing you. If a straight guy turned you down just ‘cause of that they’re stupid.”

Butters continued to tear up, but various reasoning. Her heart absolutely melted at Kenny’s words. She felt that she would burst at the seams. “Can I kiss you?” she blurted without even really thinking, as it was all she wanted to do.

Kenny smirked, “You don’t have to ask, Princess.”

“Where the fuck have you been all my life?” Butters wondered in amazement before leaning over the table and cupping Kenny’s freckled cheeks in her hands, pressing her lips promptly to his. He smile against her mouth and returned the gesture. He placed a hand over her smaller one and let the incredible feeling of her soft lips touching his drive him mad. There was nothing more he could have asked for in that moment; not the means to completely pay for his tuition, not more sleep, not more food, not a different life. The sweet, beautiful girl in front of him was more than enough.

She withdrew from the kiss a lot quicker than either wanted to, but they were also aware that PDA isn’t always the most pleasant thing to witness. Butters big, blue eyes scrutinized Kenny’s handsome face eagerly to find that he had completely lit up. Dimples deeply indented his cheeks as his large smile stretched his mouth. “Ken?”

“Mhm?” He hummed, still in a daze.

Butters cast her gaze elsewhere in attempts to appear innocent, “I think you should ask me out again…” she drawled.

He smirked and cocked his head to the side, resting his cheek in his hand, “Will you marry me?”

“Definitely.” Butters promised with a giddy giggle.

“Great, now I’ve got the rest of my life planned out,” Kenny announced before standing and reaching his hand out for her to take. “C’mon, we’re gonna go get you a Ring Pop.”

Butters faked a gasp and covered her lips, “You _mean_ it?!”

“Whatever flavor you want, baby.” Kenny assured her and grasped her fingers in his hand as she stood. As she laughed he pulled her into another passionate kiss and planted his hand on her hips. “God, I’m so glad I can do that any time I want now.”

“Not if you don’t put a Ring Pop on it.” Butters quipped, tapping his nose and smiling hard.

“Fair enough,” Kenny agreed. They clung to one another as they exited the restaurant in pursuit of the nearest place that sold watermelon Ring Pops, both of them praying that they would never have to separate.


	10. Chapter 10

Kyle let out an accomplished sigh when he crossed off the first day of October on his calendar. He prided himself on managing to swallow almost two full months of college with minimal hiccups (ignoring the whole Eric-saving-him-from-certain-death-after-imbibing-too-much-alcohol-for-his-diabetic-body-to-process debacle).

Buckling down when the work-load started to hit him harder actually provided him with a sense of comfort. Perhaps Kyle wasn’t the most social butterfly, or the best at getting dates, but if all else failed, he was incredibly gifted intellectually. Academics were his superpower, able to submerge himself in challenging research and memorizing a thousand different court cases was somewhat cleansing to his stresses.

The boy smoothed the new page of his calendar with a new, generic depiction of jack-o-lanterns representing the month that hosted Halloween. He squinted to read his own haphazard hand-writing when he noticed an event on the second of the month; _Shelley’s Birthday – Visit Home._

Kyle smacked himself in the face. He had completely forgotten about his best friend sister’s twenty-first birthday celebration. Stan would be traveling home from California for the first time since he left, and a perfect opportunity to see him again for a weekend. They still managed to never fall out of touch and tell each other everything—even things that they probably could have left to themselves. He was really thrilled for those conversations to be verbal for two days.

“Kyle!” Clyde exclaimed abruptly on entering the dorm, not even sure if his redhead roommate was there or not. When his eyes landed on a half-startled expression on Kyle’s face he continued, “Don’t rapists get the death penalty?”

The random inquiry seemed more understandable when Craig and Tweek trailed into the room. Their expressions somewhat matched Clyde’s as he waited for Kyle to confirm it for them.

Kyle replied slowly, "I mean... no?”

“I told you, idiot.” Craig proclaimed as Clyde deflated.

Tweek answered Kyle’s arched eyebrow by explaining, “They’ve been fighting about that for the past ten minutes.”

Kyle laughed as they situated themselves on Clyde’s side of the room, “Why didn’t you just Google it?”

“We were headed up here anyway," Clyde shrugged, still in the dumps as he connected his PlayStation to the television. “It doesn’t even matter if they do get the death penalty or not, they should!”

The two friends continued to debate, Tweek and Kyle exchanged amused looks. Kyle let out a laugh before beginning the task of packing for the weekend. Though he was eager to distance himself from Millville for the weekend, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the wasted weekend with Eric. Though they hadn’t had the chance to really flirt or piss each other off with all the homework they had both taken on, the potential sparks were still in the air. Kyle had decided that he would play hard to get with this particular boy, to make sure he was really what Eric wanted before he got invested into anything. With intellect like his and a challenging personality on top of his charming smile and lovely eyes, Kyle knew he wouldn’t want them to be a hit-it-and-quit-it situation.

“Where are you going, Red?” Craig asked Kyle, who was frankly surprised Craig had any interest in what he was doing.

“I’m going home for the weekend.” Kyle told him while making a suitable place for his laptop to be stored with his clothing.

“Awe, man! There’s a huge party going on tomorrow night, and some frat guy I bought bud off of invited me! You totally could’ve come.” Clyde told Kyle with a frown.

Kyle arched his eyebrows, horrified, “Bud? As in weed?!”

Clyde stared at him like a scolded child. “Yeah…”

“Clyde, what the hell?! You better not bring that shit into our dorm!” Kyle ranted, unbelieving of what he had just discovered about his roommate.

Craig snorted, earning a warning glare from Clyde. “I don’t, man! We just smoke outside sometimes,”

“First of all, I don’t believe you,” Kyle shot back, “and who is we?!” 

“Like, just… me and Kenny and Bebe,” he answered, unsure of why he was more scared of being scolded by Kyle than his actual father, “But, like, not a lot.”

Kyle rolled his eyes and zipped the black duffel bag shut, “Well, you’re stupid, and if you get us caught with weed in our dorm I’ll kill you.”

“Hey!” Clyde protested as Tweek and Craig’s chuckles mocked him. “I bet you ten bucks your _crush_ smokes, too!”

“My crush?” Kyle wanted to know, amused smirk curving his lips.

Clyde blew a raspberry, “Don’t pretend like we don’t all know who your crush is.” 

“I don’t have a crush on—“

“Cartman,” Craig groaned. “Yes you do.”

Kyle crossed his arms over his chest, peering away, “Please. Plus, Cartman doesn’t even drink.”

“Oh, that’s right, because of his mom.” Craig said nonchalantly as he scrolled through options on their video game.

Although Kyle was ready to stroll out the door and head back home, he had to hear the story behind that accusation. “What’s wrong with his mom?”

Clyde elaborated hesitantly, inwardly wishing Craig was not so blunt constantly. If Eric knew they were divulging his past to Kyle, he would be furious. “She’s a serious alcoholic.”

“Oh,” Kyle whispered.

“Yeah, when we were in elementary school it was the worst. Every time I’ve been over to his house she’s been either really drunk or trying really hard to make up for being drunk by baking him, like, a million cookies.” Craig added. “He never explicitly said that’s why he doesn’t drink, but that’s why. Plus, he doesn’t have a dad, so he was on his own.”

The new information enlightened Kyle to a plethora of explanations for Eric’s behavior and refusal to consume alcohol. The emotional strain that not having a father has on a little boy alone is immense, but in combination with a drunken mother who compensates for her disappointing behavior with material objects must have been incredibly isolating and debilitating. Eric may have been slightly neurotic and overindulgent in offensive humor as a coping mechanism, but he could have been so much worse coming from that kind of background. It was definitely something to ponder on the hour-long car ride home.

_

“Kyle, my bubala!” Mrs. Shelia Broflovski cried as her son entered their home. She immediately trapped him in a warm embrace, ignoring his hitched breath at the sudden tightness. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much!”

“Hey, mom.” Kyle smiled despite himself and returned the hug.

Shelia released him reluctantly and instead put her hands on his cheeks. “Look at you—you’re growing a little beard! Oh, I can’t believe how old you are!”

“Yeah, that generally happens when you have a kid for eighteen years.” Kyle deadpanned.

“Now that attitude is one thing I was just fine without!” She exclaimed teasingly and released Kyle’s face from her manicured fingers. They migrated into the kitchen where a kosher feast was cooking. Kyle wanted to sigh at the traditional Jewish cooking he had certainly not missed.

“Please, I taught Ike well,” He told her and took a seat on a stool before the island. Shelia continued to bustle about the kitchen and prepare the meal. “I’d be disappointed if he doesn’t give you enough sass for both of us.”

“Then it would please you to know his nickname is Little Kyle.” She confirmed humorously.

“Awesome,” Kyle laughed, leaning his elbows against the counter. “Where is that little asshole?”

“Language!” His mother complained, and he muttered an insincere apology. “He and your father are at the grocery store, they should be back in time for supper. Now,” she paused to dust her hands on her apron before reverting all of her attention to her son. “Tell me all about the college life!”

Kyle shrugged, “It’s better than I thought it’d be.”

“You had better be working your tail off, young man. Have you stayed away from drinking?” Her tone scolding, but Kyle knew she meant well.

“I mean, besides that hit of acid and all the pills I did, I’ve been pretty responsible.” Kyle smirked. He braced himself for a smack on the arm.

Shelia gasped, “Don’t even joke about that, young man! You’ll give your poor mother a heart-attack.”

“Yeah, yeah, you know I’m not getting myself into anything. I want to get into a better school even more than you and dad want me to.”

“We are happy for you wherever you decide to go, but Stanford is your dream college. It just breaks my heart for you that you’re missing out. But, there’s always next year! So, classes are okay? Have you met any good friends? Cute boys?”

“Mom,” Kyle groaned and prayed he wouldn’t start blushing. “Can we not talk boys? Like, ever?”

Shelia scoffed, “Well, you could be a bit more grateful for your supportive parents! I can still shun you from the family anytime I want.”

Kyle cocked an eyebrow, “Promise?”

“Now, stop it with that smart mouth!” She shrieked and teasingly slapped his arm. He laughed and rubbed the spot of contact—just like old times.

He grinned, nostalgia hitting him just a little. “I have missed you, ma.”

“I’ve missed you, too, dear,” She smile and patted his cheek instead. “The house has been eerily quiet without you and Stanley running around. Oh, he should be here around nine, by the way!”

“Awesome.” Kyle grinned. “I miss that shithead.”

“Kyle, language!”

“I love you!” He assured her, jogging up to his bedroom.

Kyle’s mother placed a hand over her chest and sighed heavily. “All of the swearing, all of the time with this generation,”

_

A few hours after reuniting with his brother and father, Kyle was thrilled to see his best friend again. As he was unpacking his duffel bag, the door to his old bedroom was pushed ajar and standing in the doorway was a tanner, grinning Stan Marsh. He opened his arms and shouted, “Kyley!”

“Dude!” Kyle exclaimed and rushed over to his friend, hugging him tightly and smiling wide. “You don’t look like an Eskimo anymore!”

“Can’t say the same for you, bud,” Stan sighed jokingly.

Kyle rolled his eyes, “It’s so good to see you, dude. Even if you are an asshole,”

“I know! It’s so weird to not just be able to turn around and tell you something. It bums me out a little.” Stan pouted a lip.

“Alright, quit being so gay,” Kyle teased.

“Says _you_!”

“You’d totally tap this.” Kyle assured him, jutting out his hip.

Stan chuckled softly, but his demeanor instantly shifted. “Yeah… Uh, speaking of me tapping things… I really gotta tell you something.”

Kyle’s aura too changed, a serious expression settling over him. “What’s up, dude?”

His friend let out a long sigh and paced over to Kyle’s bed, the mattress clad in fresh-smelling sheets. He was grateful his mother’s thoughtfulness, as the bedding would have absolutely been left . Stan rubbed his face harshly, “You have to swear to God that you won’t tell anyone—especially my mom—what I’m about to tell you. Okay?”

“You know I won’t.” His best friend assured him and took a seat in his office chair.

“Okay…” Stan bit a lip and paused, giving himself time to collect his thoughts and figure out the best way to say this. “You know that really hot girl I’ve been sort of flirting with, Wendy?”

“Yeah, didn’t you guys… Y’know. Perform sexual intercourse?” Kyle asked. He was very suspicious and very good at putting pieces together.

Stan winched at Kyle’s work choice and sighed again. “Yeah. And, apparently, when he performed sexual intercourse, there was a… mishap?”

Kyle's eyes went wide when his suspicions were confirmed. “Holy shit, dude. Okay—before I start to analyze this from the north, east, south, and west—you promise you aren’t fucking with me?”

“I swear, Kyle. I’ve been trying hard to put on a face today, but I’m losing it, man. Everything is on the line here and I have no idea what I’m going to do. I mean—I’m gonna be a dad!” The connotation in which he announced it was not as excited as expecting parents usually are. He raked his fingers through his wispy black hair. “I’m stressing out so hard. I was supposed to make it into the NFL and have a kick ass career and become best friends with John Elway and eventually become the coach of the Broncos, then have a wife and kids!”

“Dude, mellow out,” Kyle attempted to be soothing, taking a seat beside his friend and placing his arm comfortingly on his back. “I’m sure there are ways you can work around this. Do you at least have a decent relationship with the girl? Not necessarily in a romantic way, but just in general.”

“Uh, I mean, yeah,” Stan shrugged, confused. “We’ve been sort of talking ever since,”

Kyle nodded, “That’s good. All you can really do for now is be there for her and be willing to help in any way you can. And, not to sound rude, but are you sure it’s yours?”

“Yeah, she’s sure. She’s five weeks along, which was pretty much exactly when it happened,” Stan confirmed. “I know there’s nothing I can do, I just really wish there was… I just found out a couple days ago and I still don’t know how to even feel.”

Kyle frowned, circling his arm around his friend’s shoulders comfortingly. He was completely baffled by the situation that presented Stan, something he had never once imagined happening to himself. Though Kyle had nothing against babies, he felt as if it was gloomy news that completely obliterated the excitement of being reunited with his life-long buddy. Flicking his eyes up to consider his friend, he advised, “I know that you’re going to hate hearing this… But you really need to tell you parents.”

The teenager’s face drained of the small amount of color that stress had not taken. “Dude, no! My mom would kill me and my dad’s fucking stupid.”

“I’m just saying, they’re going to find out eventually and telling them as soon as you know and having them on your side is a lot better than showing up to a Marsh family Christmas with a random baby on your hip.” The redhead carefully reasoned. “Your mom may be disappointed at first, but she kicks ass, man. She’ll help you. You’re dad’s a basket case, but he loves you. Just ease the topic onto them and make them as involved as they want to be, or as you want them to be.”

Stan seemed to be sighing more in these past few days than in his entire life. He was furious at himself for being so thoughtless—the pull and pray method was _not_ as effective as he wished it were. He was paranoid that he was on his way towards giving up the scholarship he busted his ass for and the chance to fulfill his dream of being a successful quarterback, “I fucked up royally.”

Kyle patted Stan’s shoulder, “I’m sorry things are going like this, Stan. It seems like they should be so much easier than they are. But, you just have to keep your head up. If you shut down or freak out, you’ll only make things worse for yourself.”

Stan nodded, “You’re right, Ky. I’ll try to remember that. Thanks for being here for me.”

“I always will be as long as you keep paying me.” Kyle replied with a smile.

“Right,” he scoffed before turning quickly and tackling Kyle to the bed. He pulled out a humored shriek from his friend as he began to wrestle him to the mattress, easily dominating his scrawny frame.

“Remember when I was stronger than you?” Kyle strained as he struggled to wriggle free.

Stan barked a laugh and managed to get his arm around Kyle’s neck, forcing him into a chokehold. “Yeah, like, ten years ago! Being an athlete is a bit more physically demanding than being boring lawyer.”

Kyle gasped sardonically, “Well, you’re gonna be thanking me and my _boring lawyer_ co-workers when we get you out of lawsuits for beating your wives!”

The pair continued to push one another around and banter before being beckoned to interact with the Broflovski-Marsh clan. For the most part, everything was exactly the way it had always been, but Stan couldn’t seem to shake this whole stressful situation revolving around his future child that was not as far into the future as he had hoped. Kyle easily sensed his tension and wished he could do more to ease his friend’s mind.


	11. Chapter 11

When Sunday afternoon came along, Kyle and Stan were on the road again. After catching up with some neighbors and family as well as attending Shelley’s birthday party the day prior, Kyle was due to return to college and Stan to the airport. Stan had some time to kill before making the drive to Denver’s airport, and eagerly accompanied Kyle for a tour of Millville Community College. 

They discussed Stan’s debacle during the drive (which consisted of far too much detail on Wendy’s body), and Kyle’s love-hate relationship issues with Eric. When they reached the campus, however, they banned baby and boy talk and declared that their last three hours together would be purely enjoyable. Kyle agreed and decided to show him around the small community. They strolled from building to building, laughing and chatting about random things from the past and thinking about how fun it would have been if they attended college together. After about an hour or so of just goofing around, they decided to get a bite to eat.

“At least this college isn’t as shitty as you’d thought it’d be,” Stan stated as he chewed his salad, scanning the surrounding establishment. The theme was ancient and he was a bit concerned that the creaking bar stools would spontaneously fall apart, but the rustic charm made it homely.

Kyle shrugged, “It’s really not, but I definitely won’t miss it.”

“Yeah. There’s no way a better school won’t take you in once you finish up here. You’re a fucking genius, you just had a slip up, that’s all.” Stan said for what felt like the thousandth time, but he meant every word. There was nobody that believed in Kyle more than him—aside from perhaps his cheek-pinching mother.

“Thanks, man.” Kyle smiled, twirling his straw against the ice cubes in his glass. A familiar face sauntered into the diner as the friends ate together. Before she had the chance to select a seat at the bar, Kyle called, “Hey, Bebe!”

The blonde girl whipped around at the call of her name as Stan peered curiously at who Kyle was referring to. A bright smile soon stretched her red-painted lips as she detected the speaker. “Oh, Kyle!” she returned giddily, bouncing over to the booth. She plopped down beside the redhead and granted him a small hug before averting her attention to the dark haired stranger across from him. He appeared to be roughly their age and owned a pair of deep blue eyes and a decently toned form. He was clad in a Broncos hoodie and a slight smile. “And, who’s this?”

“This is Stan, my friend from back home. And, this is Bebe, a friend from here.” Kyle introduced with a grin. He was always proud to show off Stan, most likely because even he could not deny that he was a very attractive and cool person.

Bebe gave him a small wave, “Very nice to meet you, Stan. We’ve heard great things about you.”

Stan smirked, “Yeah, Kyle has a bit of a thing for me.”

“Oh, blow it out your ass.” Kyle rolled his eyes.

Stan chuckled and reached his hand across the table for the blonde to take. “Nice to meet you, too,” he told her after she accepted the gesture.

“What brings you up to Millville, then?” Bebe wondered.

Kyle let Stan speak for himself and flagged down the waitress for their bill. Stan said, “I’m just seeing his place before going back to UCLA. It was my sister’s birthday this weekend, so we visited home.”

“Ah,” Bebe nodded. “Older or younger?”

“Older,” Stan confirmed. “Twenty-one.”

“Ooh, maybe she can smuggle you some drinks to all the fabulous football parties UCLA must have.” Bebe giggled, making Stan do the same.

“Yeah, if only we had the energy after football practice to party.”

Kyle added, “Even if you were cool enough to get invited to parties, Shelley would rather kill herself than help you in any kind of way.”

“Very good point,” Stan had to admit. “She’s a fucking she-ogre.”

The two boys stayed a couple minutes longer to converse with the bubbly Bebe before heading to Kyle’s dorm for the last stop on the community college tour. On the way, Stan commented, “She seems really cool.”

Kyle quirked an eyebrow at him, “ _She_ seems really cool, or her chest does?”

“Oh, come on, dude! You knock one girl up and you’re accused of being a man-whore.” Stan rolled his eyes playfully.

“I joke,” Kyle amended with a chuckle. “But, yeah, she’s really nice. Her boyfriend is my dorm mate, actually.”

“Maybe I’ll get to meet both sides of the relationship, then.” Stan said. The stroll to Adams Hall was not much farther, and when they entered Stan had a laugh at some random guy passed out cold on the stairs. Kyle merely sighed and informed him that it was not an abnormal occurrence.

On entering 13B, Stan and Kyle were instantly greeted with a familiar shouting that always seemed to fill the small dorm. Stan’s gaze first scrutinized the comparatively small living space and the side that was indubitably Kyle’s. Everything was neat and organized just as his best friend always kept his belongings. Then, a single glance at the other side confirmed what Kyle had complained about over and over again over the phone; Clyde’s messy nature. Clothes spilled out of his wardrobe, various snack-wrappers and empty cans littered his desk, and his bed was not only unkempt, but contained three boys, probably over the mattress’s carrying capacity. Another guy, a heavy-set brunette, occupied the desk chair. All four were glaring at the screen and taking turns insulting each other far too loudly. However, Stan recognized a shivering figure with messy blond hair. He grinned, wanting to greet him but deciding to wait until Kyle properly introduced him to everyone.

A brown-haired guy with a baby face greeted Kyle with an enthusiastic smile when they entered. “Hey, dude, you’re back!” he stated the obvious before finding Stan with his eyes. “With a friend!” he added.

Kyle grinned. “Hi, guys. This is Stan,”

Eric’s interest piqued at the mention of Kyle and another boy. Immediately, a seed of jealousy was planted inside of him when he scrutinized Stan’s appearance. Though he was not significantly tall or built, his handsome face made up for anything he was lacking. He grimaced, but his expression instinctively brightened when his gaze fell upon the familiar sight of Kyle. The redhead appeared bright and refreshed. That gorgeous, genuine smile was a rarity, and a relic.

“Stan,”—Kyle pointed to each person as he went along—“This is Craig, Clyde, Tweek, which you already knew, and Eric.” His stomach bubbled when he called off that name, knowing Stan knew how he felt about him and eager to know his opinion.

“Hey, Stan!” Tweek greeted with a smile.

“Hey, dude! I haven’t seen you in forever.” Stan replied, matching his expression. “Nice to meet you all, by the way.”

Craig granted him a listless head-nod and Eric said nothing at all. Clyde made up for it with a friendly greeting, “It’s really nice to see you in person, dude! Kyle talks about you a lot.” He winced, and quickly tried to make his statement sound better for Kyle, “I mean, not in a gay way, but, y’know, in a best friend kind of way. Kind of like how Craig probably tells people about me, and he’s gay, but he’s not gay for me, so it’s totally platonic.”

Kyle exhaled deeply, “Clyde, just stop talking.”

“That’s a good idea.” Clyde chuckled nervously.

“No sweat, dude," Stan laughed, lifting a hand to pinch Kyle's cheek, "I already know he’s in love with me.”

“Please,” Kyle rolled his eyes and slapped his friend’s hand away. “I haven’t pined over a straight boy since the ninth grade.”

“He can do so much better than a fucking hippie, anyways.” Eric muttered a bit too loud to be under his breath.

Stan cocked an eyebrow at Eric—otherwise known as Kyle’s rude, intolerant crush. Seeing him in person didn’t quite help him earn Stan’s favor or understanding of why Kyle felt things for him. He was just an average looking guy, a bit overweight. His smartass mouth is what made him ugly. “What was that?” he wanted to know, tone slightly challenging.

Kyle began to feel a bit nervous, having heard what Eric said to himself. Eric met Stan’s gaze and gave him a mockingly sweet smile. “Oh, I was just saying how great it is to finally meet you. Living in the awesome state of California must be _so_ interesting.”

“Don’t be a dick, Cartman.” Craig spoke up against his knowledge of the sarcastic connotation.

“Shut up, Craig! I’m being serious.” Eric barked in self-defense. “I love people who eat their own farts.”

“Okay!” Kyle interjected himself before Stan started getting defensive. “Let’s go meet Kenny, Stan!”

Stan locked hateful glares with Eric on his way out, both officially deciding that they couldn’t stand one another. Kyle secured the door shut on retreating and released a long huff when he saw Stan’s disapproving expression. He grinned sheepishly, “Cute, isn’t he?”

“He’s an asshole! Why does he think I think I’m better than everyone when he just fucking met me?” Stan ranted as his friend lead him down the corridor.

“He just… Really dislikes California, and hippies, and he knows you’re a vegetarian,” Kyle attempted to make the situation appear less ridiculous than it was, but it was impossible. “I’m sorry. Hopefully Kenny’s in his dorm, though. You two would definitely get along. He’s super easygoing.”

“I think I’ll like anyone after meeting that dickwad.” Stan scoffed, watching his friend tap on what he assumed was Kenny’s room. He had heard a little bit about this other friend from Kyle’s stories, but he didn’t know exactly what to expect.

“Coming!” A sing-song voice sounded from the other side. Kyle smirked to himself, waiting a few more seconds for the door to be opened and his friend to be revealed.

“Well, well, well! My favorite Kyle has returned from Fairplay,” Kenny said as he stood behind the threshold, still clad in his work attire. He peered over to his companion, guessing, “And he’s brought my favorite… Stan with him?”

“Correct,” Kyle confirmed. “Kenny, meet Stan, Stan meet Kenny.”

They nodded at one another before Kenny lifted an eyebrow, “Let me guess—you came here because Cartman’s chilling in your dorm acting like a dick?”

“Bingo.” Stan groaned.

Kenny chuckled and gestured for the two to come in, “I unfortunately know that guy all too well.”

“Then you know he isn’t all that bad.” Kyle said in a scolding tone.

Kenny shot the redhead a disbelieving look, “Yeah, he really is that bad. But, don’t let him faze you,” he told the black-haired football player. “Cartman’s just jealous that you’ve know his boy-crush longer.”

Stan laughed at the accusation. “I don’t know why, Kyle’s always been really obvious about who he likes, I can guarantee everyone knows.”

The blond was amused when Stan earned an elbow to the ribs from Kyle, who switched the subject, “So, where’s Butters?”

Kyle had to grin at Kenny’s warm brown eyes lighting up instantly at the mention of his girlfriend. “Doctor's appointment out in Denver.”

“Ah,” He nodded and turned to explain to Stan. “Butters is Kenny’s girlfriend.”

“And future wife,” Kenny added with a simper as he turned to pull a few beers out of the mini-fridge, his offer rejected by both his guests.

“I’ve gotta drive Stan up to the airport soon.” Kyle elaborated. Kenny nodded understandingly and settled for popping one open himself.

“We’ll definitely take a raincheck, though.” Stan promised after deciding that he did take a liking to the McCormick kid as Kyle had predicted.

“Awesome! I’ve never gotten drunk with a hot, football star before. That’ll be something to cross off my buckle list.” Kenny waggled his eyebrows as he tipped the bottle towards them.

Kyle let out an amused huff and simultaneously shook his head at his ridiculous friend. “Man, I don’t even want to know where _you_ get your alcoholic beverages.”

“Don’t worry, Mama Kyle. I smuggle in this contraband straight from my parent’s fridge. It’s mutualism at its best—they don’t drink for a night, and I get to.”

“Sounds more like commensalism to me,” Stan disagreed humorously.

Kenny shrugged. “My little sister would disagree. But I know she steals their cigarettes, too. I taught her so well.”

After a few more minutes of getting to know his new acquaintances, Stan and Kyle bid their fair-wells. Before they could exit, however, Kenny tugged Kyle into a whisper, “Don’t think we aren’t talking about you and Cartman later, young man.”

Kyle granted him an uninterested groan before pulling the door shut and going on his way with Stan. The airport was a convenient thirty minute drive from the college, where Stan was just in time to board his plane back to UCLA. He gave Kyle a huge hug and promised to text him when he landed and that he’d see him in a few weeks for his own birthday. Kyle promised to respond and be available anytime he needed to vent about the whole pregnancy scenario. As Stan boarded his plane, Kyle headed back toward campus with plans to have a chat with Eric.

_

“How may I help you?” Eric inquired when he opened his door to find a mildly irritated Kyle standing outside.

Kyle’s arms were characteristically folded over his chest, “You can start by telling me why it was necessary to be rude to Stan.”

Eric let out a huff and paced back into the room, leaving the door open for Kyle to step in. He did, and kicked it shut, thankful that Kenny had left to meet Butters. His questioning gaze remained on Eric as he took a seat on the edge of his bed. “What’s the big fucking deal?”

“That’s exactly what I want to know! Why did you feel the need to dick off to my best friend after knowing him for three seconds?” Vexation was growing in his tone.

Considering yet again how perfect Kyle looked all riled up, he fought the smile that wanted to stretch his face, but a small upturn of his lips beat him anyway. “Does it honestly surprise you?”

“Well, no, it’s just stupid,” Kyle admitted with a sigh. “Like, now he hates you.”

“Holy shit, did you see that? That thing that just flew out the window?!” Eric gasped sardonically and pointed the small window above his bed. “There went the very last fuck I gave.”

“Okay, please turn off your smartass quips for two seconds.” Kyle requested angrily. “What’s your problem with Stan?”

“He’s a fucking douchebag, dumb jock hippie that assumes his GBF has feelings for him just because he has a chiseled jawline.” He shot back with a shrug. “That’s enough cause for dislike, don’t you think?”

Kyle scoffed. “He was joking, dumbass. He knows I’m not in love with him.”

Eric rolled his eyes. “I bet deep down he still thinks you want to suck his dick.”

“You know what I bet?” Kyle’s accusing tone announced as he took small strides towards Eric. A knowing simper replaced the previously indignant expression. “I bet you’re jealous of him.”

“Why would I be jealous of a vegetarian?” Eric retorted.

The redhead chuckled softly to himself, knowing he had caught Eric. “Because he’s my best friend, he’s known me since birth, he knows everything about me, and,” Kyle was wandering closer to Eric with every example. When he reached him he leaned down to whisper in his ear in a sultry tone, “He’s seen me naked.”

Eric swallowed a hard lump in his throat. He was dangerously aware of the close proximity between him and his love-interest, and so was his rapidly skipping heart. Despite his heightened senses, he wasn’t prepared to back down from both a challenge and an opportunity to perpetuate his premature relationship with Kyle. He turned his face to stare directly into those enticing brown eyes. “Nah. That’ll be me one day.”

“What makes you so sure?” Kyle smirked, the words alone making his stomach twist. The addition of Eric’s intense stare made chills ignite his spine. He inwardly kicked himself for continuously stealing glances at his lips.

Eric grinned, shrugged. “Intuition.”

Kyle rolled his eyes, “Your intuition _might_ be accurate if you aren’t a dick to my best friend. Or, in general.” With that, Kyle tapped his nose and turned away, exiting the room and leaving Eric sexually frustrated there for a second time.

Eric groaned loudly, “Fucking weak.”

On his way back to the dorm, Kyle saw a sight he never thought he’d see—Craig Tucker running, and looking concerned about something. Sucking in deep breaths of air, coming to a halt as soon as he saw Kyle. He bent over and breathed in and out, “Kyle—Clyde—Fight—Outside—Big guy—Bebe—“

“Dude, what?!” Kyle asked, putting a hand on his shoulder and knitting his eyebrows together.

Craig held his chest and gave himself a moment to retain enough oxygen to clearly explain. “Clyde’s fighting this really big guy right now for some reason; it had something to do with Bebe. It’s on the first floor, c’mon,”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Kyle sighed and jogged behind Craig.


	12. Chapter 12

Kyle questioned why Craig was so utterly worn out, considering he had only had to run down a hall and up a flight of stairs, but he was too rushed to make inquiries. As soon as they descended to the first floor they could hear obnoxious whooping and cheering. They were definitely egging on what Craig had already confirmed was a fight.

“Kyle!” a familiar female voice beckoned the redhead. Bebe trotted towards him and grabbed his forearm. “My stupid ass boyfriend is about to fight this fucking rugby player from my biology course! Get him to stop!”

Kyle’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, “What the hell am I supposed to do?!”

“I don’t know, just get him to calm down!” She dragged him down the hall towards the collection of people. They were all vaguely recognizable, but one boy in particular he could name. Kyle dropped his jaw when he saw Clyde and a much more physically superior guy shoving each other and arguing about something incoherent.

“What the hell is going on, you guys?” Kenny inquired after noticing the commotion on his way to the dorm. His hand was clasping his girlfriend’s, who appeared equally concerned and confused.

“Clyde’s about to get in a fight! Go stop him!” Bebe filled them in. She shoved Kenny in that direction.

“What?!” The blond boy exclaimed. He peered over the heads and widened his eyes to watch Clyde receive a swift punch to the face. His protective instincts immediately kicked in as Bebe squealed in horror. “Dude, Kyle, c’mon!”

The redhead tossed his hands in the air, still completely unknowing of how he got dragged into this situation. He followed Kenny as he pushed through the small crowd to reach their friend that was getting the snot kicked out of him.

“Yo, hey, man, can we just chill?” Kenny addressed the seething jock that had Clyde pinned to the ground. Clyde was squirming to be free, his lip bleeding profusely. Butters and Bebe were becoming increasingly nervous for the well-being of their boyfriends.

Bebe's classmate that was challenged by Clyde averted his attention to Kenny, puzzled by his appearance but more-so angered by Clyde. “Fuck off, this little piece of shit has been asking for it!”

“I know, I know, he does that a lot. He’s a total asshole and it serves him right.” Kenny agreed in a diplomatic tone.

“Hey!” Clyde coughed, propping himself up weakly with his elbows as his opponent was distracted.

Kenny continued to argue for peace despite the booing couple of unknown teenage boys surrounding them, “I’m sure you’re a normal person and you don’t want to get campus security called on us. We’re just gonna take Clyde away and he won’t piss you off anymore.”

Kyle leaned down and helped the weakened brunette to his feet. He continued to glare daggers at the guy he had accused of flirting with his girlfriend. His opponent returned the hateful gaze, “Fucking _look_ at me again, and you’re dead, freak.” 

“Fucking look at Bebe again and you’re fucking dead!” Clyde shot back, wriggling in Kyle’s hold.

“For God’s sake!” Bebe exclaimed, turning and storming out of the dorm. The boy’s eyes followed Clyde’s angered significant other down the corridor. Clyde sighed deeply and stalked after her.

“Babe, wait!”

“This is not gonna be good.” Kenny predicted with a sigh. He took his girlfriend’s hand again and started down the hallway after the bickering couple, Kyle not far behind.

Bebe ignored all of Clyde’s pleads for her to stop, utterly disturbed by the boy’s insane behavior. She knew for a fact that her friend from biology class was a good guy and wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize someone else’s relationship—even if he _did_ have a crush on her. She was beyond tired of Clyde’s constant insecurity in their relationship.

“Bebe, just stop!” Clyde finally caught up with her when she pushed open the door and entered the courtyard. “What’s your problem?”

Kenny, Kyle, and Butters exchanged troubled looks as the far more concerning fight broke out between their two friends. Bebe spun around, glaring at the bloody-face Clyde. Her well-maintained eyebrows were pinched together to form the most furious expression Kyle had ever seen her wear (and he had witnessed her going off on some old guy on campus for saying she had a ‘nice rack’), “What’s _my_ problem?! You’re the one who just picked a fight with one of my _friends_ for no fucking reason! My _friend_!”

“He was blatantly flirting with you! He checks you out every time I see him!” Clyde defended himself passionately. He winced at the pain in his lip that raising his voice caused, but there were more important things at hand.

She rolled her eyes to the back of her head. “For Christ sake, you don’t trust me at all! I would never cheat on you or be disloyal, so why does it even matter if someone’s flirting with me?!”

“Because!” Clyde shouted, all the blood rushing to his cheeks. “He’s way bigger than me, and he’s hotter and smarter! I don’t want him flirting with you!”

“You’re such a fucking child!” Bebe sighed, dropping her head. All the frustration built up inside her influenced a decision that she had been considering for a while. “I can’t do this anymore.”

The three spectators swore they could hear the sound of Clyde’s heart breaking. His expression resembled a kicked puppy. His voice was untrustworthy when he asked, “Wh-What do you mean?”

“I mean _us_ , Clyde!” The conviction returned to the blonde girl’s argument. “I can’t be with someone that doesn’t trust me. Your constant jealousy is suffocating and I just… I can’t do this anymore.” Bebe shook her head and turned on her now ex-boyfriend. She felt her own heart slowly separating into two parts. “I-I need to break up with you.”

With that, Bebe stalked in the opposite direction. She left behind her a shattered Clyde who remained staring with his jaw hanging wide open, tears welling in his eyes. Kenny frowned and carefully approached him, “Dude…"

“Don’t.” Clyde interrupted, holding his hand up. When he turned to face them all three friends could see a tear rolling down his bruised face. “I can’t believe this…”

“Clyde, I’m really sorry, man.” Kyle struggled to get out. He felt a bit awkward about consoling him after such an intense situation.

Clyde shook his head and rushed back inside the dorm, pushing past them with a hand covering his face. Kenny let out a long breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, that was terrible.”

“Really,” The redhead agreed with a sigh. “Man, how long have they even been together?”

“Uh, two years, maybe?” Kenny wasn’t sure of his answer, but he continued the explanation. “They’ve been fighting about this for just as long, though. Clyde thinks everyone’s after his girl, she feels like she had to prove herself constantly, and I guess this was the last straw.”

“Gee whiz.” Butters breathed out.

Kyle considered this for a moment before saying, “I mean, I can see where Bebe’s coming from, but they both just need to calm down and talk about it. Do you think they will?”

Kenny shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve no idea, dude. It seems like it should be worth it to them, but they’re also both stubborn as fuck. Especially Clyde,”

“God, my life is becoming a fucking after-school special.” Kyle groaned.

The three friends decided to allow Clyde a sufficient amount of time to mourn the loss of his relationship by grabbing dinner together. Kyle prayed to all that was holy that it wouldn’t completely throw off his new group’s dynamics, but he was very familiar with the impact of a dramatic breakup. He also predicted losing sleep over listening to Clyde whimper and sob all night—not that he was insensitive of the situation, but that would be highly irritating.

On returning to the dorm building, Kyle bumped into Eric on his way back to his room, who stopped Kyle in his tracks, eager to hear the juicy details of the breakup that he had learned little about. “Dude, what the hell did I miss between Bebe and Clyde?”

Kyle sighed, “Clyde got in a fight with this dude that he thought was flirting with Bebe, she got really pissed off and broke up with him.”

“Ah, dude, no way! Did Clyde get his ass kicked? We all just heard him crying like a complete bitch in the shower.” Eric laughed cynically.

Kyle knit his eyebrows together. “That is so not funny, you shithead! Clyde’s your friend and the girl he really likes just dumped him. Shouldn’t you be comforting him instead of exploiting the situation for your own amusement?”

Eric hummed, tapping his chin. “That doesn’t quite sound like me.”

“I know.” Kyle rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Let me put it into perspective for you; say I was dating you, you got jealous and fought someone for checking me out, and then I broke up with you right in front of your friends. How would that make you feel?”

Refusing to concede to Kyle’s accurate analogy, he replied, “Don’t flatter yourself, Kyle. I’m not half as obsessed with you as Clyde is with Bebe.”

“That’s not my point. I’m saying, have some fucking sympathy for your friend while he’s going through something that actually hurts him—regardless of whether or not you personally think it’s stupid.”

“Ugh, why do you always have to be all preachy and moral? Just admit that it’s fucking hilarious that he was gross sobbing in the shower,” Eric retorted with a childish groan.

Kyle huffed. “I’m not preachy or moral, I’m a decent person. And, I’d know that if I was in a relationship and it ended like that I would be sad. So instead of ridiculing him, I’m putting myself into Clyde’s shoes and considering that he probably feels like a shit. It’s called empathy, and it’s not that hard.”

Despite the utter cheesiness of Kyle’s sermon, he smiled at his temperamental friend. “You’re so cute when you’re giving your gay little speeches.”

Kyle’s heart fluttered at the compliment without his brain’s consent. He scoffed, “And you’re cute when you’re being uncharacteristically nice. So, just imagine how adorable you’d be if you were a decent human being for twelve minutes.”

It was Eric’s chest’s turn to bubble with excitement at Kyle’s words. He drawled a fake gasp, putting a hand over his chest, “You think I'm cute?”

“Absolutely not.” Kyle fought his lip’s desire to smile. Instead he brushed passed Eric and continued his journey to his shared dorm with Clyde.

“Don’t deny it, Kahl!”

The redhead shuttered at Eric’s irritating, joking pronunciation of his name while digging their dorm key from his pocket. He unlocked the door and bit down on his lip, preparing himself to be met with an inconsolably sobbing eighteen year-old toddler. Instead, he saw Clyde sitting on his mattress, propped up against the wall. His bloodshot, watery eyes were staring fixedly down at his iPhone—more specifically, the album in his camera roll that was dedicated solely to photos of his beautiful ex-girlfriend. He didn’t even acknowledge Kyle’s entrance with a glance.

Kyle strode carefully into the space and took a few minutes to decide what he wanted to convey to his visibly upset roommate. He eventually settled on, “Hey… I know you’re not fine right now and you might not be for a while, but if there’s anything at all I can do to help, don’t hesitate. I’m totally here for you, man.”

Clyde sniffled and nodded his head. Weakly, he said, “Thanks, but don’t worry about me… All I need is her.”

Kyle frowned and took a seat on the edge of his mattress. “Don’t give up on her, maybe something can be worked out between you two.”

The newly single boy felt his chest become tighter with each swipe to the left that revealed another cute picture of Bebe. This was the girl he had been in love with since kindergarten and finally agreed to go out with him after years of pining and ogling. The girl that was his homecoming date two years in a row, was his date to senior prom, took his virginity, and was his very first real love. He couldn’t bear to return to how his life was before he earned the right to hold her in his arms and kiss her lips. His voice remained shaky and unreliable, “I just… It hurts so much that she would just give up like this. She’s my whole world. I love her so much. Every time she’s near me I just feel so warm and happy and complete. Every time I touch her I get this, like, tingly feeling.” Clyde chuckled quietly at the thought. The happy expression didn’t last long—not with the circumstances. “I’m so scared I’ll never get to feel that again.”

Kyle’s own chest began to burn with realization. He found a spot on the ground to stare at, mind beginning to revert out of supportive friend mode. “I’m sure you will, Clyde. Just tell her how you feel. I’m sure she’ll come around.”

“I hope so, dude… I really hope so… Thanks for being here for me, by the way. It really means a lot right now.” Clyde told him before placing both earbuds in his head. “I’m gonna lay here and listen to our song on repeat until I cry myself to sleep.”

Kyle nodded as Clyde rolled over with his back facing him. The redhead replayed Clyde’s description of the way Bebe makes him feel in his head over and over again. _Every time she’s near me I just feel so warm and happy and complete. Every time I touch her I get this, like, tingly feeling._ His mind automatically equated those feelings to that rush he received every time he brushed up against Eric, or the intoxicating desire to be near him and get into arguments with him. Could this mean that it was more than just a crush between the two of them? Was he as head over feet for Eric Cartman as Clyde was for Bebe?

He attempted to shake those thoughts from his mind and get some homework done, but they refused to cease their circulation around his train of thought. He sincerely prayed that he had not fallen in love with _Eric Cartman_ of all people. That would be just his luck.

_

“Kenny?” Eric asked from across the room and through the darkness of the night. He was unable to drift off to sleep for multiple reasons—one of them being the idiot in the other bed giggling every thirty seconds at a new text from his girlfriend.

“Cartman,” The blond replied.

Eric let out a long breath of air. “Can I ask you something without you ripping on me?”

“Probably not,” Kenny admitted with a chuckle. He swiftly amended his joke when he heard the genuinely vexed sigh come from his friend. “Kidding. What’s up?”

“How did, like… You ask Butters out?” The inquiry came with little confidence in his voice. It was a topic he had been dwelling on for a considerable amount of time, and trusted _only_ Kenny with.

Kenny grinned. “Well, the first time didn’t go over so well. But, I was just totally straight forward with her. I said something along the lines of ‘you’re sexy as hell and I want to lick every inch of your body’.”

“I’m being serious, asshole.” Eric scoffed and scrunched his nose at the unnecessary imagery.

The poor kid chuckled at his own joke and turned his head to gaze through the darkness at his friend that was acting quite out of character. He cocked an eyebrow, “Why do you want to know? You planning on finally proposing to Mama Kyle?”

“Considering it.” Eric admitted.

“Bro, finally! This weird love-hate rivalry thing has been going on for way to long. You two seriously need to just bone.”

Eric grumbled, “Yeah, ‘cause it works like that. I’m not even sure he’d say yes to me asking him out.”

“Dumbass, that’s all he’s been wanting you to do this entire time!” Kenny countered.

Rendered confused, Eric wondered aloud, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Okay, you’re nothing but a dick to him, right?”

“Wrong—“

“He just wants you to make an effort for him. Show him that you genuinely like him and think he’s worth finally hiking up your skirt and displaying human emotions, y’know? He wants you to appreciate him and how great he is. And not make stupid Jew jokes.”

“I fucking do appreciate him, I just… I can’t really say it…”

Kenny pouted his lip. “You’re so cute, Eric.”

Eric glared at him, “Don’t patronize me.”

“You’re just so clueless and confused,” Kenny cooed to perpetuate the annoyance. “So in love with Kyle and you don’t know how to tell him.”

“I’m not in love with him, Jesus! Are you gonna be helpful or not?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Kenny promised with a chuckle. “All you gotta do is ask him to grab lunch with you or something. Just a small, borderline romantic gesture will go a long-ass way. Kyle doesn’t like big productions, but he does like to be valued. I bet he's got a serious praise kink.”

Eric scoffed past the final comment and nodded, “So, like… ‘Hey, Jewboy, let’s go to Starbucks in a gay way’?”

“Some variation of that. But, you got the concept.”

“This is stupid. I feel stupid just thinking about this.”

Kenny smiled. “You’re not stupid, dude. You like Kyle, and Kyle likes you. And if someone as awesome as Kyle can get over your dumb personality and see something worth liking, you don’t fuckin’ let him go.”

“You’re an asshole, Kenny.”

“You’re welcome, bro.” Kenny told him before returning his attention to his girlfriend’s text messages.

Kenny’s advice definitely stuck in Eric’s mind, and he spent the rest of his night going over what the perfect thing to say to Kyle was. As painful as it was to admit it, Kenny was totally right—Kyle was incredible and Eric was growing tired of playing middle schooler games with him, even if he did look his cutest flustered and ranting. There was only one person in the world exactly like Kyle Broflovski and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity to know him, date him, and take him out to Starbucks in a gay way.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: reference to gender dysphoria, child abuse, transphobia

The smell of Chinese food wafted through the air as Kenny and Butters laughed their way through a _Twilight_ marathon. Lying against her boyfriend and mocking movies was her new favorite way to spend Saturday nights after long school weeks. Eric had driven back to South Park for the weekend to do laundry, so the two were being as ‘gross’ as they wanted in their temporary solitude.

“I kinda feel bad sittin’ here while Clyde’s all by himself.” Butters admitted as she pushed her noodles with the back of her fork.

Kenny sent her a puzzled look. “Why feel bad? He’s made it very clear that he doesn’t want to talk to anyone that isn’t named Bebe Stevens.”

“I know, I know, I just… Feel guilty being so happy when someone I care about is so sad.” She elaborated with a genuine expression of guilt.

A smile spread Kenny’s lips. This girl absolutely baffled him sometimes—who else but Butters would feel guilty for being happy? “Don’t, baby. You deserve it more than anyone I know.”

She perked her head at him, her delicate features softening into something curious. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you’re you,” He replied as if it was such an obvious thing. “And you’ve been through Hell in a handbasket, yet you’re still the sweetest person ever.”

Butters blushed when Kenny kissed her cheek. “I hardly think that’s true. You’re the same way.”

He shook his head, wavy blond fringe swinging across his forehead as his peered down at his dinner. “I haven’t dealt with half the shit you have.”

“Yeah you have.” She disagreed, growing vaguely uncomfortable with Kenny’s references to their revealing conversation the night prior. There was a very good reason she rarely discussed matters of her family.

“I was poor. My parents did drugs, my brother drank, and I raised my little sister and this scar on my cheek is from my daddy. I’ve never been shunned by an entire town, my parents have never tried to drown me, and I’ve never had to leave where I grew up just to be myself.” Kenny presented his argument with an excessive amount of emotion. His prominent jawline set in a way that made him look ready to fight someone. Butters noticed this small detail of the boy, and she lifted her hand to gingerly glide her index finger down the side of his face.

“Ken, there’s no need to feel angry for me. I’m really at peace with all this. I got my Aunts Nelly and Kaylee, I got my friends here, and I got you. That’s more than enough.” Butters whispered to him.

She had a difficult existence in the microscopic town of Bellefonte, Kentucky. For purpose of cruel irony, she was born into a strictly Christian household as the son of a preacher. She was taught to put her love for Jesus first; before family, before love, before happiness, and before what felt right. She spent the first fifteen years of her life forcing herself to play a role. Acting like she was fine, and a good Christian, and a _boy_ was second nature, but one becomes tired of acting when they do not get paid millions of dollars to do so.

During a very rare family vacation to visit his Aunt Nelly, whom he had met only once or twice before she moved to California, she learned why the women packed up her life and moved across the country—it was so that she could love her girlfriend with no judgement. The entirety of the two-day vacation was spent with his mother and aunt reuniting briefly, and then arguing about how each other lived their lives. While Butters hid herself away and wondered just what the point of visiting _family_ was if you weren’t going to treat them like _family_.

There was a point during the trip when everything had changed for her. Nelly’s girlfriend, Kaylee, had felt as awkward and upset as Butters. They had a long conversation about _everything_. Butters was finally able to express her true feelings, her original thoughts, and long-since bottled up differences with the life she had been given. It was the first time she had heard the term transgender, and the first time she had every felt validated for who she was. The first time she felt _cared_ for.

Butters kept in touch with Aunt Nelly and Aunt Kaylee, and they planned out her escape from the deadbeat town. Although she felt indebted to them for all they were willing to do, she accepted their offer to put her through a college near their new home in Denver. Everything was set out, but there was one last thing she felt incline to finish; coming out to her parents.

She was eighteen years old when she told her parents she was transgender. The night that she did was the worst of her life. She calmly explained to her them that their son was their daughter after all. They did not reply in a calm manner. They had always been extreme, grounding and punishing her for the littlest things, be it reasonable or not. She had always questioned their sanity but she felt wrong to leave with no explanation, and she instantly lived to regret the consideration of their feelings when they went ballistic.

As her father, Stephen, screamed at her, her mother, Linda, sobbed her eyes bloodshot. She remembered the bugling veins prominent in her father’s sweaty forehead as he gestured angrily with the _Holy Bible_ in his grasp. He delivered a full sermon before she built up enough confidence to defend herself—but as soon as she stood, she was struck down. She was beaten. She was forced to rehearse any verse she recalled and to read new ones. They ‘baptized’ her, forcing her head under a full bathtub of water over and over again. Her life was threatened by the very people who gave it to her.

She still managed to escaped, and mounted a plane to Denver, Colorado and no longer felt guilty or obligated to the town she was leaving behind. She spent summer with her lesbian aunts in their quaint home, where she was even provided a bedroom to make her own. Her wardrobe was replaced with one that she felt comfortable in, she was finally able to grow out her hair out as well as purchase extensions for herself, and she had begun hormone therapy. She promised her aunts that she would one day repay them for everything that they had done for her, and they assured her that is was okay by explaining that they wished someone had done the same for them. 

Butters’s touch brought the humor back to Kenny’s face. He shut his eyes and simpered at her. “It’s just amazing how you’re not even bitter. I mean, I’m not an unhappy person, but I sure as hell am bitter.”

She sighed happily when she felt his thumb brushing underneath the t-shirt she borrowed and rubbing circles against her hip. Her finger ghosted over Kenny’s cheek, tapping against the tiny freckles that spilled out across his handsome face. “I got nothin’ to be bitter about anymore. The way I look at it… I’m _lucky_. I got to see both sides of the story. Those people in my hometown really believe people like me are abominations. It ain’t their fault, though. They don’t think what they’re doing or what they believe is wrong. I’m lucky to understand that so I don’t do the same thing. I ain’t gonna judge them for believing what they believe—because then I wouldn’t be any better. Plus, it’s kinda hard to be bitter when I get to be with someone like you.”

Kenny fluttered his lashes apart to cast his honey brown stare at her face. His eyes danced with adoration and love—reminding Butters yet again why she didn’t need to feel acrimonious with the people who had wronged her. Though Kenny whole-heartedly disagreed that transphobic religious fanatics didn’t deserve to be judged, he asked in a hushed tone, “Someone like me?”

She hummed, dilated pupils engulfing the enticing sky blue of her own eyes as they gazed deeply into Kenny’s. “Someone like you. Someone that treats me feel like a real special person, and women.”

“Well, you’re the most special person, and woman, baby. You’re beautiful—inside and out. Fuck, you’re the reason I get where Clyde’s coming from with this whole Bebe drama. I’d die if I wasn’t the one who got to tell you how amazing you are every day.”

The corners of Butters’s lips turned downward. “Please, Ken. You got nothing to be jealous of or worried about.”

“I know,” Kenny nodded. “I’m just saying.”

“I understand, though.” Butters admitted. “I’d be lying if I said I never got a bit nervous about you talking to other girls, or boys.”

Kenny gave her a cocky smirk. “Because I’m such a fine piece of ass?”

“And modest, too.” She puffed out a scoff and slapped his chest. He laughed and leaned in to press his lips to the spot just beneath her ear.

“Leah… I’m so crazy about you.”

The simple, historically overused phrase alone made Butters’s heart melt and swell simultaneously. Her rosy blush darkened. “I’m so lucky.” she whispered.

“Not at all,” Kenny disagreed. He used his index finger to angle her chin towards him. “I’m the jackpot winner.”

Butters huffed softly, “Now, how come you’re so down on yourself? You tell me all this stuff about how I’m the best and I deserve to be happy and you’d do anything for me, do you think I don’t feel the same way about you?”

Kenny was slightly taken aback by this question. He pointed his eyebrows together and continued to stare into her face. “I… Wow, I’m drawing a witty-reply blank here.”

Butters giggled softly and kissed the tip of his button nose. “You deserve happiness, Ken. And if I make you happy, than you deserve me. Don’t think for a second you don’t.”

With a teasingly exasperated grunt, Kenny replied, “Fine, I guess I accept your love and admiration.”

With a wide smile, Butters leaned forward and pressed her lips to Kenny’s. He let out a short gasp as he instinctively reciprocated. Their lips pushed slowly along one another’s as if they were made specifically to do just that—kiss one another in a college dorm with the taste of soy sauce on their tongues. They didn’t realize it then, but _love_ was the feeling rising in their chests and engulfing their hearts. Despite everything they had come into the university thinking, they had found someone who truly _loved_ them for them.


	14. Chapter 14

_Sweat? Really?_ Eric thought to himself, scrutinizing the small pools beneath his armpits. That’s just what he needed in that moment, to be clammy on top of being more nervous than he could ever remember being.

It had taken him a month and a half and a trip home for motherly advice to decide just what he was going to say and how he would say it. This would be the first time in history he voluntarily let his guard down in front of someone, but he trusted Kenny’s judgement and his own more than anything, and the both of them filed Kyle Broflovski into _the too perfect for my own good_ category. Despite the beads of perspiration dripping down his forehead as he stood outside Kyle’s dorm and the unnatural palpitating of his heart, he was pretty ready to ask him out.

It seemed like such a childish endeavor. It had taken almost until midterm for Eric to admit to simply _himself_ that he liked Kyle, and then stressing out about the whole event to the point of nausea seemed exactly like what an awkward, hormonal fourteen year-old boy would do. He did not intend to be so juvenile, but this was his sole experience with another person whom he really enjoyed being around. Anyone he had found interesting prior had always managed to piss him off after a few days. It had been almost three months, and Kyle was still like a computer-generated perfection robot sent from the future specifically to make Eric climb the walls he had spent years building around himself.

With a shaky fist, Eric finally gathered the nerve to tap three times against the thick door. He heard a, “Coming!” from the other end and waiting a few more seconds for the declaration to be fulfilled. Standing in the doorway was the one person who could make Eric’s heart soar like it did, Kyle. It was one of the few times Eric had seen him without some kind of hat covering his thick, curly head of ruby ringlets. He never thought he would love red hair so much, but nothing else could have suited Kyle more perfectly. Yes, Kyle was standing there with a pleasantly surprised grin across his lips, adorned in a maroon pullover sweater that accentuated the boldness in his deep, brown eyes. Sitting on his bed was his Californian best friend, Stan. _Of_ _course_ , Eric inwardly huffed.

“Hey, Cartman,” Kyle greeted. His attention seemed to be slightly preoccupied, but Eric was always able to pull a least a grin from him. “Need something?”

 _Abort, abort_ , the sirens in Eric’s head blared as his stare flicked from Kyle to the scowling Stan. If the athlete wasn’t definitely capable of kicking his ass, Eric would have strangled him. The _one_ time he actually had the audacity to tell Kyle how he felt, he had company. Not just any company, either—a hippie.

“Uh, no,” he lied quickly, shaking his head. “I was just looking for Kenny. He owes me fourteen dollars and I think he’s hiding from me.” _Too much detail, dumbass_ , he inwardly scolded himself.

Kyle nodded, “Well, have you checked your own dorm? You know, where he lives?”

Eric narrowed his eyes, “Wow, what a valiant point, Kyle. I don’t think my brain has the capacity for such astute observations as such. I of course did not think to check in my dorm that I share with Kenny, where I also live. I suppose I would have seen him in there and wouldn’t have had to come looking in other places.”

Kyle chuckled slightly and shook his head. “Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Eric told him, aware of the eye roll he earned from Stan. He grinned triumphantly at his ability to annoy the plan-ruining hippie. “Anyways, I’ll let you two homos get back to making love. I have a debt to collect.”

“Text me later if you wanna hang out or something,” Kyle offered. He seriously had no clue how such a simple phrase affected Eric’s insides. As he secured the door shut again, Eric stood with a mortifying blush crossing his full cheeks. He attempted to rub the smile off his face as he carried on down the hall, but could not.

“So, what do you want to do about this?” Kyle projected to his best friend from across the room. One hand rested on his hip as the other dug into his itchy left eye—the one that always twitched in stressful situations such as the one before them.

Stan kept his unblinking gaze on the same patch of carpet he had been eyeing since he reached Kyle’s dorm two and half hours ago from a flight to Denver the week prior to his birthday. Though he was not keen on leaving campus to take a plane ride twice in one month, he had known it was coming. “I have no idea, Ky.” He gritted his teeth, “I know I have to be patient, but she is so mean! I can’t stand being around her,”

“Well, your only option is to just talk to her and ask her what her problem is. You can’t just ditch her.”

“I know, I know, I’d never do that,” Stan sighed to his voice of reason. “She is just always so angry as soon as I open my mouth, even when I take her to appointments or pick her up things from the store to make her feel better. I got her some decaf coffee the other day, and she started screaming at me because she can have 200 milligrams or whatever of caffeine a day and I’m an idiot who doesn’t know anything.”

Kyle laughed a little at the image, “Dude, Stan, obviously I have no idea what pregnant women go through to any personal capacity other than our one friend senior year, but I do know that pregnancy completely messes with your body and your hormones. It’s funny to make jokes about pregnant girls just crying out of nowhere and then getting bad really quickly afterwards, or just being utterly intolerable altogether, but there is seriously so much uncontrollable emotional and physical strain going on. You just really have to be patient with her and be delicate. Just ask her if there’s anything that you have been doing to set her off and see how you can change that.”

Stan grumbled, “Yeah, I do feel really bad for her. It’s just hard to talk to someone who blames the whole thing on me and says I ruined her life.”

The redhead frowned and reclaimed his seat on the edge of the mattress. “I’m sorry, Stan. Like I said, it’s doubly hard for her, but that doesn’t give her the right to make you feel like shit. Just have that conversation.”

“I’ll try, but I can guarantee she’ll just complain about my pull-out game.” He covered his face and tilted his head back. “Why me, man?”

“I don’t know, maybe if you two weren’t super talented geniuses and were in love then you could give the cute little Stan baby a good, stress-free life despite everything.”

Stan chuckled, “Having a little Stan baby does sort of sound cool,”

The redhead reached over and clapped a hand on Stan’s broad shoulder. The blue in his eyes was intensified by the tears welling in them. He moved his hand from side comfortingly, “Hey, dude, come on. Don’t start getting down about this. You’re doing exactly what you can. And right now, you just go to the ultrasounds, you tell Wendy she has you if she needs anything, and you try to figure this out.”

“It’s just so fucking frustrating,” Stan wailed, all the walls crashing down around him as the water works began free falling down his cheeks. “I cannot believe I got someone pregnant the damn millisecond I moved away.”

“Me neither, man,” Kyle sighed in agreement with his crying friend. It always made his stomach clench unpleasantly to see his good-humored companion reduced to tears. “I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you.”

Stan sniffled, “I haven’t even told my parents yet.”

“That’s a step you should definitely take.” Kyle told him, voice softening as he felt increasing sympathy for his distraught friend. He dragged his friend into a tight embrace and let himself be a literal shoulder to cry on. He sighed heavily and patted Stan between the shoulder blades, “I’m sorry you’re dealing with so much right now, dude. But it won’t always be this stressful. Just imagine a little baby boy or girl with your eyes or your hair that _you made_. Isn’t that an amazing idea? Forget about everything else and just try to remind yourself that it’s so fucking incredible that you created a life, even if you don’t end up keeping them as your own. You could change someone’s life, there’s lots of people that can’t have babies on their own!”

Stan mumbled against Kyle’s boney shoulder, “I guess that’s cool…” Stan withdrew from his friend’s comforting embrace and used the back of his hand to wipe away the moisture on his face. New tears continued to replace the old ones, but at a much slower pace. “Sorry I’m just fucking crying this whole time.”

“It’s okay, dude.” Kyle told him with a smile. “You’re not a fuck up, you know?”

Stan cocked an eyebrow at him. “Either that your you’re just really good at making fuck ups feel like they aren’t.”

Kyle hummed to himself, never having thought about it like that. “I guess we all have our talents.”

The noirette chuckled and cupped the side of Kyle’s face. “Thanks, Ky. I know I say this constantly, but I have no clue what I’d do without you. This is such a mess.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me, dude. I’m almost as in control of your life as you are at this point. Which leads me to my suggestion of going down and telling Sharon and Randy while you’re already here,”

Stan groaned theatrically. “Do I _have_ to? Dad’s just gonna make a big, weird scene.”

“Well, your mom won’t, and this is kind of a big thing for them to be aware of. They can really help you, dude.” Kyle reasoned.

“Will you come with me?” He requested with a pouted lip.

The knowledge that he would have to visit his own family as well as sit through the awkward Marsh family meeting about a baby being born out of wedlock made him reluctant. It would be much easier for his sanity’s sake to stay tucked away in the haven of community college, but it would be wrong to not be there for his good friend. He grumbled. “Fine, only because it’s your birthday.”

“Thank you.” Stan smirked and wiped away the last of his tears.

The redhead granted him a sarcastic smile, “Yeah, yeah. I love being your wife.”

Stan laughed as Kyle lifted the television remote to turn on Netflix. Stan promised he would do nothing else to increase his chances of heading to that battle alone as well as earned some peace of mind by finding a funny film to take his mind off of everything that was going on. But, it was extremely hard to think of nothing but how screwed to hell everything had gotten.

_

“Wow, this is awesome, Tweek!” Bebe gushed when she heard the news. Tweek Tweak was a featured presenter in MCC’s Holiday Arts Fair. It was an annual gathering in which the arts program put together a two-day event to raise money and awareness. It is a student run and student organized endeavor; both for a grade and for a chance to reveal their work to the public eye. One of Tweek’s paintings was chosen to be a part of the auction, the most prestigious portion of the fair. He would personally explain his inspiration for the piece and start the bidding. Craig and his photography would be a part of the fair as well, but _this_ was huge for art majors.

“Thanks!” Tweek huffed as he obsessively peeled the skin from his bottom lip with his teeth. He had earned praise from his new boyfriend before telling Bebe, and while he was grateful for their support, he was still unsure if he was actually going to accept that opportunity. Getting up on stage in front of a crowd of people was way too much pressure within itself, but explaining and taking ownership for a piece of art that he had created made him feel even more exposed.

Craig had become quite proficient in detecting Tweek’s nervous ticks and the severity of them, despite the fact that they had only been dating a couple of weeks. Lip-biting was minor; it usually insinuated that he was in deep, tense concentration. The next step was when he fiddled with his shirt’s sleeves or cracked his knuckles incessantly, which was a bit more demanding. The tell that he had to be truly wary of was Tweek’s trichotillomania tendencies. As soon as he grabbed his hair and started to tug, he could be reasonably sure that a panic attack was coming on. Craig had spent a decent portion of the last few months memorizing these idiosyncrasies that nobody else would consider pertinent; to him, it was everything, because it was _Tweek_.

The taller boy put a lanky arm around Tweek’s shoulders. The blond sighed and magnetically drifted into the warmth of Craig’s torso. He told him, “You’re going to do awesome, Tweek. I’ve seen your painting and it’s really good. You could get a hundred bucks for it easy.”

Bebe nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah! And we’ll be there for you the entire time. All of us will…” she trailed off and shifted her blue gaze to Craig. “Speaking of which, is Clyde coming?”

Craig shrugged. “Probably. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“No, no, not for me. I’m a big girl; I can get over the awkwardness for forty-five minutes. I just really don’t think he can.” Bebe elaborated with a frown. It had been a couple of weeks since she ended things with her long term boyfriend. In some ways she felt a heavy sack of overbearing stones lifted from her shoulders. But in other ways, it was too much of a burden that was taken away. It left her with an emptiness within that she couldn’t fill with anyone else. Until she decided which feeling was more prominent, however, she stood by her original decision to be done with him. And she knew how hard Clyde was still taking it. “The first week he called me every day with different ways of yelling at me. First it was ‘How could you do this to us’, then it was ‘I understand why you did this but I need you and I can change’, then it was ‘Fuck you bitch I don’t need you I hope you’re never happy without my fine ass’, and I’m pretty sure he was drunk, and then it was ‘I was lying I need you so much I love you baby please come back to me. Also drunk. Or high. Or both, I can’t tell over the phone.”

Tweek withheld a chuckle at Bebe’s accurate impression of the emotional teenager. He frowned instead, “Well, uh, maybe he’ll be cool about it if he does come… Or he’ll cause a scene so I don’t have to go on…” The blond boy brightened and tilted his head up at Craig. “Let’s definitely bring Clyde.”

Craig smirked down at Tweek, “It’ll be fine, Tweek. You’ll go on and auction off your painting, get a good grade and some cash, and it’ll be fine. And, if Clyde causes any drama, we can choose to not be a part of it and leave Bebe to deal with it herself.”

Bebe chuckled sardonically and leaned pinch a handful of Tweek’s perpetually rosy cheeks. Despite how much her nervous friend hated it, she made it a habit. “Listen to string-bean, Tweekers. Everything going to work out. I’ll just sit as far away from his as possible.”

Tweek reeled back to get away from her coddling treatment and exhaled dramatically. “Fine… But I can’t promise that I won’t burst into tears in front of everyone.”

Craig leaned down and pressed a kiss to Tweek’s temple. Almost instantly, the blond’s nerves were soothed and a bashful smiled stretched his lips. He was completely unsure of what kind of physical or psychological quality that Craig possessed, but he had the uncanny ability to make Tweek feel at ease. His crippling anxiety was so much more manageable with the calm, handsome boy looming over him and promising that things were okay. For some reason he believed him—he trusted that all his worries and the effects of his mental disorder were controllable. He thought it was impossible to find a human being that was capable of soothing his whacked out nerves while simultaneously making his heart race, but there Craig Tucker was—the tall, monotone guy from graphic design. He never expected to end up dating him three months later, and he never expected to meet anyone who made him feel so complete and _okay_.

“You two are so fucking cute, it gives me cavities.” Bebe sighed, half-hearted smile playing across her painted lips.

Craig raised an eyebrow at her, “Does it make you miss something?”

Bebe merely shrugged before changing the subject. Although he was generally terrible at reading women, Craig had been exceptionally close with her for years. He could tell that she at least somewhat missed Clyde and was reconsidering the split. He just wished they would stop acting like they’re still in junior high and just be honest with each other. How hard was it say ‘Hey, I like you and I want to be with you’? That’s exactly what he did with Tweek and they were great. Craig would never understand people like Clyde, Bebe, or even Cartman and Kyle.


	15. Chapter 15

Eric’s eyes shifted to the opening door. Stepping through it was his roommate and his girlfriend, laughing careless about some stupid couple thing, he assumed glumly.

“Cartman, what the fuck are you doing here?” Kenny inquired, arm encasing Butters in a side-hug.

Eric blinked, annoyed. “Parasailing. You?”

Kenny snorted and escorted Butters to his bed. He turned back to his friend on the other side of the room and spread his arms, “Why aren’t you with Kyle? I thought you were asking him out yesterday.”

“Jesus Christ, Kenny, not in front of the lady!” Eric exclaimed, gesturing toward his girlfriend.

Butters waved her hand, keeping her stare on her Instagram feed. “I already know everything.”

Ignoring Eric’s foul gaze, Kenny fluttered over to the space beside him on the mattress and gingerly pushed his arm. “C’mon, man, you promised yourself you’d do something about it! It’s not like you don’t know the outcome; he likes you! What are you waiting for?”

“I was going to ask him out yesterday, but he crawled up his Californian b-f’s ass before I got the chance. By the way, you owe me fourteen dollars.”

“No,” Kenny disregarded the last statement. “I forgot Stan was visiting, shit… But, he just got back from Fairplay, so go slide in!”

Eric sighed and shook his head from side to side. “He’s probably not in the mood for me to go ask him out.”

Kenny narrowed his eyes, “What mood do you have to be in to be asked out?”

“I don’t know… The mood to where you’ll absolutely say yes.”

“You’re such a pussy!”

“Ay, fuck you, asshole! Why don’t you try asking Kyle Broflovski out, it isn’t as easy as it looks! He’s not totally head over ass in love with me like Butters is with you!”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Don’t start feeling sorry for yourself. You don’t know that. And you won’t know that until you go ask him out!”

“Jesus Christ, who the fuck invited you to my love life?”

“Are you kidding me? You are absolutely hopeless, the door was wide fuckin’ open, I didn’t need an invitation,” Kenny spoke as he pushed himself off the mattress. “Either you go talk to him, or I will.”

Eric slammed his laptop shut and pushed it aside. His heart inadvertently palpitated at the thought of Kenny’s tendency to be not only open and honest, but also not remotely shy of adding unnecessarily private details. “Don’t you fucking dare, I will murder your family and eat your parents right in front of you.”

“Go right ahead, you’ll get AIDs,” Kenny smirked as he inched backwards towards the door. He shot a smile over to Butters. “I’ll be back, baby.”

“No, you won’t. You’re not going anywhere, because if you do I will _eviscerate_ you!” Eric threatened, tracing his steps.

The blond raised a challenging eyebrow. He felt around behind him for the bronze doorknob to their dorm, not even remotely worried about the wrath of Cartman that would ensue after what he was about to do. Swiftly, he dragged the door ajar and threw his head back. He shouted, “Kyle!”

“Asshole –!”

Sprinting was effortless for Kenny, who had grown accustom to physical labor in general throughout the course of his life; however, for Eric, it was a nightmare. Puberty had aided him in shedding some of his excess baby fat but he was still, for all intents and purposes, _overweight_. Of course the run was not far, but the slimmer boy reached the destination much swifter and began pounding urgently on Kyle’s door.

“Kenny, you fucking vagina face, stop!” Eric grumbled, almost caught up with his overly eager match-maker of a friend.

There was a wild smirk across Kenny’s lips as he repeatedly slammed his fist against the grand, wooden door. He had always tried to do things like this for Eric: get him out of his comfort zone, put him in his place, and force him to have _fun_. Knowing Kyle, he would strive for the same things on a different level. Not to mention in Kenny’s mind, Eric _needed_ to at least be kissed on the mouth for the first time before he reached the age of nineteen, which was merely around the corner.

“What the fuck is going on?!” A confused redhead demanded after travelling from the comfort of his bed to the door. It was late in the evening, and he had just returned from transporting Stan to the airport after a patience-thinning spectacle that was telling Mr. and Mrs. Marsh about his bun in the oven after his birthday gathering. They took it worse than Kyle originally pictured. Needless to say, it was a pant-free, sockless, no homework kind of night.

Kenny flung himself and Kyle back into the dorm and slammed the door shut hastily. He breathed out a few exasperated huffs before grabbing Kyle’s shoulders for support. “Are you okay?”

“Are _you_?” Kyle pinched his eyebrows together when he heard another fist rapping against his bedroom door, followed by a very familiar voice shouting.

“Kenneth, I will fucking spear tackle you out of the window!”

“Okay, there’s no time,” Kenny decided and pulled the shorter boy close to his face. “Cartman really, really likes you, okay? I know you know that by now, but he really wants to ask you out but he’s a pussy and we only have like a few weeks ‘til the semesters over and I need you guys to at least fuck before that, so say yes, you capiche?”

Kyle paused a moment to process Kenny’s impromptu rant and Eric’s attempts to break his door down. He titled his head to the side, “Kenny, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Just say yes to Eric asking you out! It isn’t rocket science, now go lay down and act natural!” Kenny insisted, shooing Kyle towards his own mattress.

“Why are you so weird—“

“There’s no time for questions!” Kenny cut him off before bustling back to the entrance of the dorm. He braced himself for any immediate blows from Eric before swinging the door open to see him wheezing angrily. He granted him a cheesy grin, “Alright, things seem to be in order. Go get ‘em, tiger!”

Eric attempted to grab Kenny’s arm in order to throw him across the space, but before he could retaliate to the idiot’s behavior, he was shoved into Kyle’s living space and the door secured shut behind him with a deafening slam. It was not just the noise that made it so unbearably garish, but that it meant even for a second, he was alone in a room with Kyle after he had discovered Eric’s plans to ask him out. His cheeks burned.

From his bed, Kyle was simpering at Eric with a half-knowing and half-utterly-perplexed expression. “What the hell is wrong with people from South Park?”

Eric sighed deeply, “I really don’t know… But, uh, whatever Kenny said to you was probably a bitch ass lie. So, sorry to, uh, disturb or whatever.”

“So, you’re not planning on asking me out?” Kyle’s inquiry beckoned him as he turned to exit the space.

Eric stopped dead in his tracks, rooting himself to the space that was just far enough from Kyle to breathe but not vast enough to miss him. His nervous fingers fiddled with the doorknob as he worked on making his voice reliable. “Well… Do you planning on saying ‘yes’?”

Kyle hummed. “Maybe. I’d like to get to know you a little bit more. If tomorrow at eight works for you, too, I’ll probably say ‘yes’. Just a suggestion, though.”

“Tomorrow at eight?” Eric repeated and glanced over his shoulder with a pouted lip. “You stole my line.”

“Come up with something better, then.” The redhead shrugged, chest brimming with those inconvenient feelings Clyde described.

Intent eyes followed Eric to where he was sitting. The brunette scooped up Kyle’s smaller hand in his and dropped down on one knee. Kyle slapped his palm against his face, laughing despite the stupidity that was about to ensue. “Kyle Broflovski… We’ve known each other for a good three months, and in those three months, I have met you and sufficiently pissed you off with my extensive offensive jokes. Why do Jewish men get circumcised?”

“Stop—“

“Because Jewish women won’t touch anything that isn’t 20% off.”

“Okay, I’m cancelling the date, goodbye.” Kyle declared and dropped Eric’s hand.

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m kidding,” Eric chuckled, feeling much more at ease. Kyle rolled his eyes and slid his hands back into Eric’s grasp. He cleared his throat, “Although we’ve had our differences and they were primarily my fault, even though yelling at me isn’t very nice on your part, I…” He paused, and suddenly gained a serious connotation. Kyle’s mood shifted instantly to match. A confused expression crossed his face as he watched Eric fumbled slightly with the words he was attempting to sputter. “I, I like you a lot, Kyle. Like… Yeah, a lot. Anyways, wanna fuck?”

With a heavy sigh, Kyle tossed his eyes towards the ceiling. “Try again, you lewd idiot.”

“Okay, okay,” Eric smirked and rephrased his invitation. “Wanna date?”

Kyle peered back down at his cute face, a gleam in those intriguing eyes. It was easy to forget about Eric’s shitty sense of humor when he was staring up at Kyle like he was some kind of divinity. It made the redhead grin, feeling important and desired. He said with a shrug, “Nah.”

Eric’s expression fell with a snap of the finger. He knit his eyebrows together, “You literally just said, like, five sentences ago that you would tomorrow at eight, so please tell me you’re not serious right now,”

Kyle barked a laugh and shook his head. “Of course I’m joking, dumbass. I’d love to go on a stupid date with you.”

A newer, even more intense feeling of elation bubbling within Eric and he couldn’t help himself—he smiled. It was a rare, teeth bearing, dimples displayed, _happy_ kind of smile that the boy rarely let anyone pull from him. “Well, lucky you, then.” He played it off as he stood to his feet again. “Tomorrow at eight?”

Kyle nodded and grinned up at him. “See you then. Unless you want to say and watch _Wife Swap_ with me,”

Eric glanced over at the television to see that _Wife Swap_ was indeed paused on the screen. He smiled to himself at Kyle’s odd choice of show to occupy his time. The boy never ceased to surprise him. “Who got swapped?”

“Carol and Renee,” Kyle said the last name with distaste. “Carol is a surprisingly normal parent that’s really sweet to the kids and what not, but Renee totally makes up for the drama. She’s authoritarian to these kids that aren’t even hers, and she won’t listen to the dad on how to punish them and what they’re doing wrong. It’s a fucking nightmare. And Carol’s sixteen year-old daughter is about to square up.”

“Damn.” Eric said as Kyle pressed the ‘play’ button on the remote.

He scotched over and patted the spot beside him on the bed, “C’mere.”

Eric did as he was told, nervously, and stared ahead at the drama reality show displayed before them. As the redhead explained more about the family dynamics in the show, Eric became bit distracted with staring at Kyle’s perfect face—so close to his. The way his heart-shaped lips moved captivated him, the inflection in his intoxicating voice both amusing and endearing. There was nothing more he wanted to do than exactly this; watching Kyle be _Kyle_. Kissing him would be sort of cool, too, he supposed.

When Kyle realized that he was not truly being listened to by the other boy, he side-glanced at Eric and smirked, and attempted to regain his focus, “And then Kenny sucked Clyde’s dick, which surprised us all since he’s straight. But, it turned out okay because then he ate my ass.”

Eric eyes went wide when he noticed the dramatic subject change. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“My threesome with Clyde and Kenny,” Kyle chuckled. “You weren’t even paying attention to me before that!”

“Believe me, I was.” Eric assured him, heart-rate speeding up as Kyle pinned down his gaze. His head swam with disbelief and anticipation and adoration for the boy sitting just before him and staring back at him like he actually mattered and worthy of wasting Kyle’s precious time.

Kyle hummed, very gradually drawing closer to Eric’s face. He was questioning whether or not he would have to instigate the situation, but wanted to give Eric a fair opportunity to do so himself. “Then, why are Carol and Jamie having problems?”

Of course, Kyle would ask him a question he had absolutely no clue how to answer. He cocked one eyebrow, “She’s bad at giving head and Renee’s better?”

Kyle laughed and shook his head from side to side. “No, you idiot! Why do I even talk when you don’t listen?”

“I do listen! I just… Got distracted.” Eric admitted, becoming aware that Kyle was doing the leaning. It made the world stop spinning around him and the walls around them disappear.

“By what?” Kyle wondered.

The brunette swallowed hard when he felt the tip of Kyle’s nose brush against his. He was so impossibly, dangerously close to finally tasting those enticing pink lips that called him out and challenged him on a daily basis. He didn’t mean to whisper, but that’s all his voice would allow, “By you.”

Kyle flushed, smiled wider. “What about me?”

Eric forced his gaze to lift from Kyle’s lips to his eyes. A warm, overwhelming tingling sensation traveled straight down his spine and throughout his body. He had never seen a lovelier shade of brown in his entire life, narrowed slightly by Kyle’s hooding eyelids, and red-ish blond lashes meeting. “You’re… You’re just really hot.” He managed, stupid as it may have been.

Kyle knew it was a stupid thing to say, and he hated and loved Eric for it. Butterflies erupted in his stomach and his toes inadvertently curled. He never thought that specific adjective would make his insides turn to mush, but it did the trick. He rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Shut up.”

With that, Kyle lifted his hand to cup Eric’s cheek and titled his head sideways, fitting his lips against Eric’s.

Eric’s first natural response was a completely frigid state. A small, breathy gasp fell from his throat and his twitching hands instinctively went for Kyle’s hips. He was frozen—he had seen kisses endlessly on his television screen, but having an actual perfect person’s mouth against his was a completely separate scenario. What has he supposed to do? Rapidly drag his lips, stick his tongue out, pucker up, peck him then pull away?

Kyle drew back and lifted an eyebrow at Eric, “Are you okay?”

Brown and blue eyes were comically wide as he stared back at Kyle’s face. “No… I, just… I’ve never…”

As the redhead filled in the blanks, his expression immediately softened. He wanted to coo and pinch Eric’s chubby cheeks, but he knew that would be a great way to get him to walk out the door and ignore him for at least a week. His ego was a very delicate matter, but Kyle loved the rush he received from their mouths simply colliding to care. His other hand reached up and pressed against the other side of Eric’s face, thumb softly tracing his soft skin. “Good news is, it isn’t hard. Just kind of… move your lips with mine. Easy.”

The second time Kyle pressed his mouth against Eric’s, it was easy. The brunette’s grip on Kyle’s hips loosened and his eyebrows knit together. The passion and adoration burning inside of him was a foreign feeling. He never thought anything could mean so much to him—yet, there they were, lips locked as a crazy mother was laying into her fake television children in the background. It was so easy to get absorbed in the softness of Kyle’s lips as they ran long one another’s in sync. Eric was an amateur, and Kyle was much more proficient, but it mattered none. It was easy to forget that he had never been kissed before this endeavor when their mouths fit so flawlessly together that they wondered why they had waited months to get them acquainted. Just like waking up in the morning, or walking, or _breathing_ —it was so easy for Eric to fall desperately in love with Kyle. 


	16. Chapter 16

_Tap… Tap… Tap…Tap tap… Tap… Taptaptap…_

_“Tweek!”_ Clyde growled. “Please, for the love of all that is holy, find a new nervous habit!”

Shrinking back, Tweek jerked his hand away from the table. He was sat at Craig’s desk beating his fingers anxiously against the wooden piece of furniture. Tonight was his big night; the one in which he would have to stand before a crowd of rich grandparents and present his painting while his art instructor peeled him apart with his eyes, ears, and a rubric. Needless to say, he was reverting into a less casual version of his generally stressed out self.

Craig shot the annoyed Clyde a glare from across the room as pulled on a navy button-down shirt. In lieu of the prestigious art fair, Craig’s photography class was suggested to look ‘presentable’ by their professor. For him, that entailed something other than the revolving NASA and _Star Wars_ graphic t-shirts with matching flannels. He considered disregarding this requirement, but realized it would make his boyfriend feel much more comfortable with dressing up himself. “Get the stick out of your ass, Clyde. You can go back to the world revolving around your pain tomorrow.”

Clyde scrunched his nose distastefully. “Whatever, asshole. Maybe you’d understand how much it hurts to be around your ex-girlfriend if you had one.”

“Well I’m gay, so that’s never going to happen, but that doesn’t make it okay to take it out on my _boy_ friend.”

“I’m not taking anything out on anyone! I just asked him to stop tapping like a fucking lunatic.” He grumbled defensively with a harsh grasp pushing through his hair.

Tweek pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, Clyde’s comments doing nothing for his already unpleasantly throbbing heart. He stood to his feet and kept his green stare on the carpeted floor of Craig’s dorm. “Sorry, I’ll go.”

“No, you won’t.” Craig argued. He gingerly grasped Tweek’s arm on his way out the door and dragged him into his side. Blazing hazel eyes gave Clyde a warning look that he was very familiar with after years of friendship. “He will.”

Clyde tossed his arms in the air. “What?! I’m not doing anything!”

“You’re being a dick. We’re all sorry the best girl you’re ever going to get dumped you, but you’ll never get her back sitting here and being a bitch. You’re going to go talk to her, right now, so that you don’t make us all miserable tonight.” Craig extrapolated.

“No fucking way, dude.” Clyde scoffed as he pushed himself from the blue duvet-clad mattress. His smile was indignant. “I’m so sorry that my sadness is such an _inconvenience_ for you.”

Craig’s voice had raised very slightly, but that was more than Tweek had ever heard. “It is when you’re constantly sulking and feeling sorry for yourself. It’s time to either move on or try to get her back. I’m done enabling you and this whiny bullshit. It isn’t Tweek’s fault you fucked up.”

Tweek flinched, flicked his gaze up to Craig’s fierce eyes and set jaw. “Craig, it’s okay, I understand—“

“You shouldn’t have to, honey. You don’t deserve to get the brunt of his temper tantrum.”

Clyde narrowed his eyes in disbelief, anger welling inside of him. “Whatever, dude. I don’t have to fucking take your shit.”

“And we don’t have to take your’s,” Craig shot back. His face remained expressionless, uncaring if he was being harsh. Clyde had been testy since the break-up, and Craig had been giving him passes for it. He would be damned if he let him take it out on Tweek, however—on any given day.

Tweek, however, felt ashamed and guilty anyways. As he watched silently, Clyde stormed out of their dorm and slammed the door harshly behind him. The blond flinched, his tooth digging harshly into his sensitive lip. He cursed under his breath and raised a finger to check for blood.

“What?” Craig wondered, peering down at his boyfriend. His eyebrows rose when he saw the small amount of red liquid seeping from an open cut on his bottom lip. He frowned. “Did you just do that?”

“ _Gah_ , yeah…” Tweek sighed. The pain was quite easy to disregard, as this had been the millionth time the thin skin had been penetrated by his teeth.

Craig matched the release of breath. “Listen, fuck Clyde, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s just pissed that we invited Bebe. Not your fault.”

“I know, I just… I-I didn’t mean to set him off like that.” Tweek puffed out a long breath.

The taller boy shook his head, glancing down to find that Tweek’s shirt was buttoned incorrectly. He cocked an eyebrow, a fond smile playing across his lips, “How often do you wear button-downs?”

“What?” Tweek wondered confusedly. When he peered down at himself, he realized also that he had put one of the plastic buttons in the wrong hole. He groaned loudly. “ _Gah_ , I can’t do anything right!”

“Hey, don’t get like that.” Craig warned as he placed his fingers underneath Tweek’s shirt. He tugged him towards him and began unbuttoning his shirt as to redo it properly. “If that were true, your painting wouldn’t be featured tonight as an auction piece. Just think about how cool that is.”

Tweek huffed, fiddling with his fingers as he watched Craig work. “I mean… I guess it’s cool... It’s just not worth causing problems for people. Clyde knows he doesn’t have to come, right?”

Craig shook his head. “He has to, or I’m going to kill him. I’m tired of their drama.“ Tweek shrugged. When Craig had finished correcting the poor buttoning job he had down, he smoothed out the green fabric with his hand and flicked his stare up to the blond’s face. His pale cheeks were rosy, lips pursed. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Tweek’s small, pointy nose. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. We’re all going be there for you.”

He couldn’t help but grin at Craig’s kind words and caring behavior. He sighed happily and nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Craig told him. They both dipped towards one another, lips pressing together passionately, causing a warm, fuzzy feeling to erupt within them.

“Tucker, open the door!” An irritating voice ordered after an alarmingly loud knock. Tweek jumped away from his boyfriend and shot a doe-eyed glare to the door. Craig moaned irritably with the knowledge of who was on the other side.

Reluctantly, the heavy door was swung open to reveal Eric. Without invitation he tromped into the space and instantly made his way to Craig’s side of the room. Craig kicked the door shut behind his discourteous friend. “Won’t you come in?” He spoke sardonically.

“I left my charger here Saturday, and I broke the backup. I would steal Kenny’s but his poor ass still has a fucking Blackberry. Fucking repulsive,” Eric elaborated on his sudden appearance as he pulled the charger from a plug. As he stood back up and took in their attire, he chuckled. “What are you homos all dressed up for?”

“Art’s Fair is tonight.” Craig reminded him.

“Oh, that’s right. Well, I hope you’re nice and bored with that bullshit. Meanwhile, I will be on a hot date with Kyle.” Eric announced smarmily.

Craig knit his eyebrows together. “Uh, no you won’t. Kyle’s coming to Tweek’s auction.”

Eric made a muddled expression. “No, he’s going on a date with me. And there’s no way I’m going to Arts Fair to listen to a bunch of hippie locals pretend college kids have talent.”

Tweek recoiled at the statement, but was a bit comforted when he reminded himself that it was _Cartman_ talking—the boy who was impressed by nothing but Kyle Broflovski’s ass. There would be no point complaining about not having his approval.

Craig pulled the heavy wooden door ajar and pointed a finger. “Go talk to Red, then. The auction isn’t over until nine o’clock.”

“Ugh, I will,” Eric huffed and headed out of the space. Before leaving them alone again, he spun around and said, “Oh, by the way, thanks so much for whatever you said to Clyde. I ran into him for two seconds and he already bitched to me about how annoying you are. Like, nothing I didn’t already know.”

“Bye, Eric.” Craig spat, being the second person to bang the door shut that day.

_

After much debating and arguing, Kyle had managed to reason with Eric in pushing their date to nine-thirty after attending Tweek’s auction. The group of friends—consisting of himself, Eric, Bebe, Clyde, Kenny, and Butters—first visited Craig’s photography display. He was disgruntled at the fact that he had to converse with strangers about the aesthetic photographs he haphazardly stapled to a black poster board. There were a couple black and white shots of coffee mugs, and the rest were colored shots of the sky at various stages of the day, a dog close up with a wide-angle lens, and one of Tweek laughing. Kenny teased him relentlessly for that one until Craig threatened his life.

When the auction began, Craig led them to a department of the college that Kyle was unfamiliar with. The unofficially designated art building was designed similarly to the rest of them, but its contents were much more colorful. The walls were decorated with murals done entirely by students from the past. Instead of lecture halls, there were vast classrooms with various art paraphernalia; kilns and turntables, easels, walls of camera lenses, paint-splattered aprons. Craig led them to the very back corner of the building where a considerably sized auditorium was.

As they entered, they saw that there was already a crowd of people chatting among themselves in the theater’s chairs, most appeared to be at least older than forty or college students, as well as a few bored-looking children. Craig told them to find seats while he went to check on the indubitably panicking Tweek.

“This is fucking retarded.” Eric groaned as soon as Craig excused himself.

Kyle gave him a warning glare. “It’s a good thing this isn’t about you, then. You’re here for Tweek, and therefore Craig.”

Eric groaned as he trailed behind Kenny in pursuit of suitable seating for their entire group. “What the fuck has that asshole ever done for me?”

“Not kicked your ass for being constantly rude to him.” Kyle retorted. The redhead peered over his shoulder to check on the sullen Clyde for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. Although Bebe maintained as much distance as possible from him, he still inadvertently stole a few glances at her beautiful body perfectly displayed in a crop-top and leggings and heard her adorable giggle, which was absolutely torturous. Kyle had a lot of sympathy for his dorm mate. “You okay, dude?”

Clyde simply huffed, shaking his head and slumping down on the red, cushioned seat. “It’s whatever.”

Kyle frowned and turned his head back to Eric. He mouthed, “I feel so bad.”

Eric shrugged, smirking slightly at how much Kyle cared. He didn’t understand it, because it was just _Clyde_ and Clyde always had something to whine about. Nonetheless, he found it admirable. Kyle’s compassion was one of those qualities he was lying to himself about not loving. “Who cares? This is about Craig, right?”

Kyle rolled his eyes, grinning despite himself. He turned his attention to the stage and waited for the event to begin. Eric did the same, shifting slightly and inadvertently bumping Kyle’s knee. Kyle peered at his neighbor, who was trying very hard to play it off. He smirked to himself and pushed against his knee harder. They went back and forth giddily until Kenny took notice to their flirtatious behavior.

“Oh my god, you two are so gross!” Kenny mocked the phrase Eric used against him repeatedly and pushed his other knee in Kyle’s direction.

Eric scoffed, “At least I don’t call him _Princess_.” 

Kenny smirked, shrugged. “You’re just jealous you haven’t thought of a name that gets you BJ’s.”

“Kenny!” Butters scolded, lightly slapping him on the arm. “Don’t be tellin’ people that stuff!”

Kenny chuckled heartily and leaned into her face, “Aww, you know I’m kidding, Princess.”

She rolled her eyes at his suggestive wink and pulled her hand from his grasp; however, she easily gave up the silently treatment when he kissed her cheek and tickled her sides. Eric scoffed, “And _we’re_ gross.”

Bebe watched the couples be _couples_ with a jealous eye. Despite her brave-front, her heart was clenching at Clyde being so far away and silent. She had never seen him so utterly _depressed._ All things aside, she was tempted to make amends just to see his goofy smile again. She smiled sadly at Kenny and Butters. “Stop being so adorable, you’re gonna make me jealous.”

The comment caused a loud scoff to sound from beside Kyle. Bebe’s stomach churned unpleasantly with the knowledge of who had made the noise. She pressed her lips together and stared at the ground.

Kyle jabbed an elbow into Clyde’s ribs. “Don’t start shit.”

“I’m not!” Clyde declared oversensitively, rubbing the spot of contact. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You scoffed because your ex said she was jealous of a relationship, and you’re gonna start whining and bitching again.” Eric analyzed. This earned him a boney elbow to the ribs much quicker than Clyde endured.

“Quit it, both of you.” Kyle warned through gritted teeth. Thankfully, the matter was dropped by Craig’s return to the group.

“He’s so nervous.” Craig sighed heavily as he took the seat beside Clyde. He peered over at Kyle, who was the only other person that understood Tweek’s excessive paranoia. “He was shaking so fucking much.”

Kyle’s lips turned downward. “Is he going to be able to make it through this? Maybe you could talk to the instructor and tell her about his anxiety.”

Craig shook his head. “Tweek already tried that. She’s one of those people that thinks essential oils will solve all of his problems. She just gave him some orange-smelling shit that supposedly calms his nerves. Spoiler alert, it didn’t fucking work.”

“Hippies, man.” Eric shook his head.

Kyle said, “Don’t worry, Craig, he’ll be okay. He’ll know you’re in the crowd for him.”

“Yeah.” Craig sighed.

An art student that appeared to be around the same age as them, perhaps a bit older, was the first to set up onstage with a ceramic bowl that he explained was a tribute to his African ancestry. The bidding began at thirty dollars and went up from there. The only participants were enthusiastic old men and women in suits and dresses clutching checkbooks and calling out numbers.

While they sat side by side, Eric eyed Kyle’s empty hand that laid on their shared arm rest with want in his eyes. He recalled the feeling of Kyle soft skin against his, and it was a good memory. When Kyle glanced to his side he noticed, and smile spread his heart-shaped lips. He returned his eyes to the stage and casually reached his hand over to meet Eric’s. He laced their fingers together and was satisfied when the other boy’s grip tightened.

About twenty minutes and three pieces of art were sold when Bebe decided her bladder could no longer contain her large Dr. Pepper. Eric watched his friend stand and decided it would be funny to stick his foot out as she passed him. This was something he had done to her since they were five years-old, and a practice he would not soon give up. Inevitably the girl tripped over the sudden obstacle impeding her travel and gasped. She fell forward, instinctively outstretching her arm and grasping whatever they found. It just so happened to be Clyde’s thigh that she held onto.

Blue eyes instantly widening at who she was clutching, Bebe picked herself up and shot Eric the most evil glare she could muster. “Cartman!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Clyde spat at her in a low tone, his heart throbbing spitefully at the feeling of familiar hands against his lap.

Kyle’s eyes bulged, swiftly disciplining Eric for being the cause of this disagreement and _ooh_ -ing by slapping his in the chest. Bebe’s angered gaze shifted from Eric to Clyde, “Cartman tripped me. What the fuck is wrong with you? Does the fact that I _fell_ hurt your feelings?”

Clyde was seething, nostrils flaring and eyes fighting water. “Whatever, fuck you.”

“Guys, shut the hell up.” Craig warned with a stern stare.

Both disregarded Craig as Clyde stood to his feet. Bebe entered his personal bubble, stopping him from running out as he had planned. “It looks like you still haven’t grown the fuck up. You’re really going to ditch this because I accidentally _touched_ you?”

“Get out of my way.” Clyde warned, attempting to bypass the womanly barrier without contact. His eyes were continuing to well and the last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of her.

“No,” she argued and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. “Sit down.”

“I’m serious, you assholes,” Craig growled. “This isn’t the Clyde and Bebe show.”

“Yeah, come on, Clyde. You’re making a scene.” Kyle spoke up as he took notice to the eyes peering over at the bickering ex-couple.

“Get the fuck out of my way, Bebe! I’m sick of your shit!” Clyde voice was unreliable and rising.

“The feeling is mutual!” Bebe huffed and pushed his chest harshly. Considering she was a bigger girl, she managed to send him staggering backwards.

“Fucking stop! Tweek’s up!” Craig told them, his blood pressure rising when he watched his shaky boyfriend step onto the stage with a sheet-covered canvas in his hands. His emerald eyes scanned the audience for Craig, and instead found Bebe throwing punches into Clyde’s chest.

Clyde’s rage only escalated, and he completely disregarded the wishes of his best friend. “Why are you such a bitch?! First you rip my heart out, and then you go out of your way to make me remember you ripped my heart out. And I’m the immature one?!”

“Yes, you are! All you care about is yourself! All you care about is how the world is out to get you! _Poor_ Clyde!” She shrieked.

“Okay, let’s go.” Kenny finally stepped in when he noticed Tweek setting up onstage. He pushed himself up and grabbed Bebe from behind. “Craig, get Clyde.”

Beyond livid, Craig stood and harshly grabbed Clyde’s ear like a furious parent, he dragged him out of the public eye with Kenny and Bebe trailing behind. They exited the auditorium just as Tweek picked up the microphone. The blond watched with glossing eyes as Craig left the room. His one means of serenity and security was gone in his time of need.

With trembling hands, Tweek lifted the microphone to his quivering lips. His blood pounded profusely in his head and his stomach twisted painfully. There was a sea of faces staring up at him, waiting for his artwork to be revealed, scrutinized, and bought. They expected him to be as lax and professional as the other students. They expected him to maintain a calm composure for longer than two seconds. They didn’t want to watch some freak walk up there and shake like a leaf. They didn’t want to watch him have a panic attack.

“U-uh, hi… I’m, uh… I’m….” Tweek began, wincing at the cracks in his voice. Kyle, Butters, and even Eric felt the secondhand embarrassment. They frowned and watched him tug at his long, messy blonde locks and visibly shake. “I’m-I’m Tw-Tweek…”

“What the hell is wrong with this kid?” A middle-aged man wondered as he sat in the front row adjacent to his wife. They were on the look-out for an expensive-looking piece of art for her mother without actually paying a decent amount of money. His offhand comment was the breaking point for Tweek, who’s ears had managed to pick it up.

The blond’s chest heaved uncontrollably, fear creeping into every crevice of his mind. Suddenly everyone was laughing at him; judging him, taking him apart piece by piece, chewing him up and spitting him out like an undesirable piece of garbage. He was disgusted by himself. He was appalled by the fact that he couldn’t control the tear rolling down his cheek.

In a fit of panic, he dropped the microphone and scurried off the stage. He cupped a hand over his mouth to muffle his weeping. Just as he ran off, Craig rushed back in, his lips twisted when he noticed a disappointing lack of Tweek. He listened to the chatter that arouse, all confused, some frowning. He sighed, “Fuck.”


	17. Chapter 17

The group of six stood in silence outside of the auditorium and waited for the remaining two members to join them. They were all aware of Tweek’s anxiety attack at that point and felt either guilt, awkwardness, or hunger. Eric peered over at the quiet Kyle and let out a sigh. “So, are we still on for tonight?” Kyle sent him a narrow-eyed scowl. Pursing his lips and looking away, Eric nodded. “We can take a rain-check. Although, you wouldn’t have to if Clyde and Bebe could be in the same goddamn room for two minutes.”

“Oh, fuck off, Cartman.” Clyde grumbled.

“He’s not wrong. For once,” Bebe told him. “This was supposed to be Tweek’s big night. Craig’s going to be so pissed.”

“Who gives a fuck?” He huffed, pushing himself off the wall and pacing forward.

Bebe narrowed her eyebrows at the back of his messy brown hair. In the moment, she couldn’t believe all the times she had ran her fingers through it happily as they kissed; she couldn’t believe him. “Are you really that mad at me, Clyde? Are you that pissed at me that you’re taking it out on everyone else?”

“Yes, Bebe.” Clyde spat, spinning and showing her glossy eyes and a clenched jaw. “I am.”

“Why?! All I did was break up with you! For good reason, too!” She scoffed, glancing over at Kyle and Eric. “Am I wrong?”

Eric smirked, putting his hands up in mock submission, “I’m not touching this one with a twenty-foot pole.”

Kyle nodded, “Sorry, Bebe.”

“You are wrong!” Clyde spouted, striding towards her. “You humiliated me in front of these guys twice now!”

“Oh, that’s what you’re mad about?! That I called out your bullshit?!”

Clyde threw his arms up in the air, “How the hell is not wanting everyone to fucking flirt with you constantly bullshit?!”

“Oh, my god, would you two stop?!” Kenny spoke up in a gruff, angered tone. It was particularly rare for the easy-going (occasionally high) boy to be pushed to his limits, and it frankly scared Butters a little; she had never heard his voice sound that way. “You are both being petty. You are both taking things too far. And now, you both screwed up the only opportunity for poor little Tweek to get a confidence boost. Not to mention, this was a _grade._ Forty-percent of his grade. You would know that if you took your heads out of your own asses for two fucking seconds!”

Clyde and Bebe stared wide-eyed at their uncharacteristically fuming friend. The only times they ever witness their friend’s expression completely devoid of humor is when Eric makes those comments that push just a little too far—so they knew they had, too. He continued to voice his normally pent-up opinions. Kenny’s knuckles were clenched at his side, “You two have been together forever. That is not worth throwing away on a dumb fight like this. It is also _definitely_ not worth fucking Craig over, so just please get the fuck over yourselves.”

Everyone was silent. Even Eric did not have a comment. Clyde and Bebe exchanged looks, a mutual apology being given to one another. As if on cue, Tweek and Craig came around the corner. It was obvious that Tweek had been crying, and even more obvious that Craig was pissed at them. Craig stopped to address Kyle—only Kyle. “I’m taking Tweek to his dorm. Do you know his art instructor?”

“Professor Beaumont?” Kyle extracted the information from the back of his head.

Craig nodded. “Just tell her what happened.”

With that, Tweek gave them a weak smile and let himself be lead away by Craig. On the way out, Craig purposefully bumped shoulders with Clyde. The brunette stumbled, shutting his eyes and letting out a huff. He waited for the two to leave before saying, “Yeah… You were right, Bebe. I need to grow up.”

Bebe frowned and turned towards him. She couldn’t help but melt at the puppy-dog expression peering down at her. She had missed being looked at like that. “Maybe we both do, baby.”

Clyde’s heart clenched at the sweet tone of her voice. Both out of habit and desperation to have her in his arms again, he pulled her into a tight, protective embrace. He pressed kisses to her hair and held her close. “I’m so sorry.”

Watching the couple take his advice, Kenny peered over at Butters and smirked. “I am God.”

The smaller blonde giggled and wrapped her arms around Kenny’s waist. Butters was glad Kenny was able to get through to the stubborn quarrelers, but also glad that he was returned to his carefree persona. “Should we give them some privacy?” She questioned as they began vigorously making out.

“Obviously they don’t need it.” Eric scoffed.

Chuckling softly, Kyle tugged at Eric’s sleeve. He pressed his chin to his shoulder when he received attention from the brown and blue stare. “Wanna go on a date?”

Eric smirked and stared back at Kyle’s adorable face. His curly red hair was peeking out of one of his many dad-style hats and his eyebrows were raised as he awaited the response. “I guess so.”

_

“So, I definitely don’t like Kenny yelling at people.” Kyle spoke up after they reached Derek’s Diner. They mutually decided to grab a bite to eat after the drama that had just ensued. They chatted casually during the walk, ultimately leading them back to the drama that had befallen the group that night.

Eric nodded while sipping at his Pepsi. “Yeah, I’m pretty much the only one who ever gets that, so Clyde and Bebe really must have pissed him off.”

Kyle chuckled, “Makes sense. What have you done to piss him off that bad?”

“I don’t know, you know me, I make jokes. One time I made up a song about him being the poor kid at school and he punched me in the face and didn’t talk to me at all for a few days.”

The redhead sighed through his nose. “You made up a song about Kenny being poor?”

Eric nodded in confirmation. “That was in, like, the fourth grade.”

“At least you’re slightly less of an asshole now,” Kyle laughed past his protests. “I’m super glad that Tweek didn’t have to grow up with you after all he’s been through.”

Eric rolled his eyes. “He would be fine! What’s he even been through, anyway?”

For a moment, Kyle debated whether or not to reveal the information about Tweek’s personal life. He supposed it wasn’t entirely a secret, however. He fiddled with the straw in his glass of ice water as he spoke. “When Tweek was a kid, his parents were busted with drugs. All the sirens and cops totally freaked us out, there had to be at least twenty cops. He stayed with me and Stan for the first night, because we were neighbors, then he moved in with his grandma. He had a major panic attack that night, and Stan and I had no clue what to do. Eventually his parents got him back and everything, but he has pretty much been on edge ever since that.”

“Wow,” Eric frowned. “That’s fucked up, man. Drugs suck.” 

Kyle frowned and tried very hard to not let his need-to-know-everything quality take over. He wanted to learn every detail of Eric’s life, but he doubted he would even know his mother’s name by the time the night was over. “Yeah?”

Eric nodded. He shifted uncomfortably and avoided Kyle’s eyes. “Yeah. Kenny’s family did a lot of drugs. They got in trouble for it, too, and he had to go to a foster home in Greeley.”

“That’s crazy.” Kyle shook his head and sighed. “Hearing about parents like that makes me really appreciate mine. I mean, strict Jewish parents never make life exactly easy, but they never did anything like that.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky.” Eric scoffed and took another long sip of his carbonated beverage.

“What about you?” The redhead revealed his curiosity. While Kyle already had limited knowledge of Eric’s childhood, he wanted to know from the source himself. “What about your parents?”

“Parent,” Eric corrected coldly. “I don’t have a dad.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry.”

Eric shrugged, “Why do you wanna know my origin story, anyways?”

Kyle smirked. “Origin story? What are you, a super hero?”

“Actually, I used to be.” Eric said proudly. They paused the conversation for a waitress to bring them a cheeseburger and chicken sandwich. As she walked away he said, “The Coon.”

“The Coon?” Kyle repeated for confirmation. “Of all the animals your superhero could have been, you chose a raccoon.”

“Yes, _Kahl_. I was bad ass, okay? My town was a dying whore, and I answered the call to save her.” Eric shot back between French fries.

He smirked and shook his head. “Was anyone else a vigilante, or are you the only heroic one in South Park?”

Eric rolled his eyes at the childhood memories of Kenny stealing his thunder. “Fucking Mysterion.”

“Mysterion?” Kyle parroted, puzzled.

“That was Kenny’s gay superhero name. He barely even had a costume. He just used an old sheet, sewed an ‘M’ onto a shirt, and put his tidy-whities on over his mom’s leggings.”

Kyle barked a laugh, “Oh my _god,_ I wish I could have seen that.”

“Everyone thought he was _so_ cool. It’s just ‘cause he was cute and you could see his face for once.”

“What do you mean?”

Eric snorted. “When we were kids, Kenny always wore this orange parka, and he’d keep the hood up and covering his face. Like, every single day for at least four or five years. I was pretty much the only one who could understand a word he said. He was pretty bummed when it didn’t fit anymore.”

Kyle shook his head. “Why’d he do that?”

Eric shrugged his shoulders. “Beats me. But Clyde was just as pissed as I was about the Mysterion thing.”

“Oh god, what was Clyde’s superhero?”

“ _Mosquito_.”

The redhead threw his head back and laughed. Despite the indisputably lame names his friends had chosen as kids, he sort of wished his neighborhood had done cool things like that. Fairplay was a bit bigger of a town than South Park, he supposed. “That’s fucking amazing. What was Craig?”

“Craig didn’t play superheroes until we forced him,” Eric responded with an eye-roll. “He thought it was stupid. He was Super Craig for a little bit. But, he got really into it when we played _Game of Thrones_. He was Feldspar the thief.”

Kyle chuckled, “Sounds like you guys had a blast as kids.”

“What, you never ran around your town in homemade costumes fighting over a stick?” Eric questioned.

“No. We played football, sometimes basketball, and thought soccer and baseball were boring.” Kyle told him, “Sometimes cowboys,”

“If it was with Stan, I hope it wasn’t anything like _Brokeback Mountain_.” Eric grumbled.

Kyle snorted. “Nope. I was the only gay cowboy, unfortunately.”

“Did you ever like Stan?” He wondered. Eric absolutely loathed serious conversation, and did any kind of verbal gymnastics it took to avoid them. For whatever reason, however, it didn’t seem so nerve-wrecking with Kyle. In fact, he was inclined to pose actual inquiries and dig deeper than the surface with this boy. It was a totally new feeling that frankly wigged him out. “Like, as more than a friend.”

The other boy sighed heavily as he pushed a French fry into the puddle of ketchup at the edge of his plate. “Why does everyone assume I had to have had a thing for Stan at some point in my life? Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I follow the cliché precedents that the media perpetuates.” 

“Chill out, genius, it was a question, not an accusation.” Eric chuckled. “I just don’t see how you wouldn’t. You two are close, he’s not completely ugly.”

“That doesn’t mean I have, or had, romantic feelings for him. He’s not my type.” Kyle shot back, resting his chin on his fist.

The brunette grinned and perked his head to the side. “What is your type, then?”

Kyle flicked his eyes to Eric’s idiotic expression. The dorky smile and widened eyes made him infuriatingly adorable. He replied, “Annoying assholes like you, apparently.”

Eric grinned, “That’s the first time I’ve been proud to be that.”

“Actually, it’s horny, blond guys that smoke and are obsessed with NASCAR.” Kyle amended with a chuckle.

“Nope, you can’t take it back, my ego already got bigger from you liking me.” Eric told him, kicked his foot under the table.

“I was lying.” Kyle smiled and kicked back harder, the toe of his boot digging into Eric’s shin.

“Ow, you bitch!” Eric winced, and then returned the favor with a foot to Kyle’s leg.

Kyle scoffed at the colorful obscenity and took another turn at Eric’s shin. “Dumbass,”

“Okay, _ow_!” Eric complained after a particularly harsh kick to the ankle. They both fell into a bought of laughter despite the aching in their lower legs and dirty looks from fellow customers.

“Goddamn it,” Eric sighed as they finally managed to control their giggling. “Where have you been all my life?”

Kyle grinned widely, taken aback a bit by the sweet talk. “A town away,”

Eric bit his lip and looked away, slightly embarrassed. “Thank God you didn’t get into Stanford, then.”

“Yeah,” Kyle hummed. For the first time in three months, he was genuinely glad that he did not get into the prestigious college of his dreams. If not, he would not have been sitting across from this cute asshole and his heart would not be racing like it was. “Thank God.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this chapter contains mild smut  
> very gay stuff here folks

After a successful first date, Eric and Kyle made their way to their dorm building together. The sky was dark with night time, a cold breeze chilling their bones as they walked against it. With Christmas break abruptly coming upon them, Colorado’s weather stayed true to its infamously cold reputation. It didn’t bother the boys much under the circumstances that they had grown up with it and they had one another’s laughter and smiles to keep them warm. Their path was illuminated only by strategically placed street lamps that attracted several fluttering moths. Despite the uncomfortable temperature, Kyle longed for the journey to never end. He was not looking forward to falling asleep alone in his dorm.

They had come upon their designated housing eventually and climbed the stairs together. Kyle’s strides were purposefully slow. As they approached 13B Eric’s face fell along with the other boy’s. He was not looking forward to sharing a room with the giggling Butters and Kenny. His stare landed on Kyle’s face and his lips curled into a small smile. “And, this is where I leave you. It’s been real.”

Kyle glared at Eric’s outstretched hand. “It’s been real? After a great first date with this, as Kenny says, hot piece of ass all you have to say is _it’s been real_?”

The other boy chuckled and shrugged, “There’s a lot more I _could_ say, but I’m pretty confident we don’t have the time for that.”

“We have all the time we want.” Kyle corrected, grasping Eric’s hand and drawing him forward. “What _could_ you say?”

Instead of coming up with a witty saying or clever remark, Eric made the mistake of letting himself get lost in Kyle’s eyes. Kyle rendered him something that he rarely was—speechless. There were so many things on the tip of his tongue, but there were hidden behind the excitement of being so close to him, the lust he received by simply touching his hand, the fear of making a wrong move and losing this feeling, the horror of falling even harder for his crush.

“Nothing?” Kyle smirked, reeling in closer. “Well, _I_ could say something like, ‘Kiss me, you idiot’.”

With a soft chuckle and an erratically thumping heart, Eric said, “Smart ass.”

“That’s me.” Kyle managed before a soft pair of lips pressed against his own.

The kiss was innocent and passionate, quick and concise. Even so, it was enough for the two to become dizzy with feelings that buzzed beneath their skin and made them crave more. Eyelids remaining shut, Kyle whispered softly to Eric, “Wanna come inside?”

“Please,” Eric practically moaned.

Hastily, the slightly taller boy dug into the pocket of his jeans and retrieved the key that opened the door to privacy. As soon as both of them had made it through, Kyle tossed his key onto his desk and threw his arms around Eric’s neck. Their mouths collided for the second time that night, though this time without the intention of separating.

Eric raised a hand to gently remove the hat from Kyle’s head and tossed it on the desk to join the discarded keys. He traced his fingers through Kyle’s ringlets and he drowned in the taste of his lips. Heat rose between them and inside Eric’s chest. If only he could remain in this moment for the rest of his natural life; he’d never feel angry, or sad, or afraid again. It would only be Kyle—and although these strong feelings frightened him, it was more worth it to be able to simply look at him.

Kyle shared these feelings towards the complex but sweet, intelligent boy. He had kissed others before, but never had anyone been able to make his head spin like this. Never had he found himself so desperate for more; more contact, more skin, more _Eric_. In the haze of it all, he found himself trailing his curious fingertips down the front of Eric’s flannel, absently fiddling with the buttons.

The notion made Eric’s heart beat unpleasantly, wondering is Kyle wanted to take the moment further. Of course, he was completely okay with getting to study Kyle’s body, but he felt absolutely inferior. Insecurity blared inside his mind like an alarm. Reluctantly, he withdrew from the frenzied make-out session and kept his head lowered.

Disappointed, Kyle peeled his eyelids apart and gazed down at Eric. He wondered, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Eric assured a bit too quickly. He knew he couldn’t fool Kyle when he glanced up to see the accusing expression. He sighed, “I just… You know. This.”

Kyle’s stomach twisted disagreeably. “What about this?”

Eric shrugged his shoulders and cast his gaze away again. An uncomfortable frown curved his flushed lips. “You should be doing _this_ with someone else.”

Kyle couldn’t decide whether he wanted to roll his eyes or scoff—both, maybe. Instead he shook his head. “What are you talking about, Eric?”

“I’m talking about you,” He stated the obvious. The way Kyle spoke his first name made him feel even more undeservingly special. “You, and you're perfect and actually skinny. You should be with someone… Like, I don’t know. Just, not me.”

As blush darkened against Eric’s cheeks Kyle began to feel more sympathy. This was not a rouse to get Kyle to compliment him and build him up, he could see—this boy felt genuine discomfort with himself. It was understandable considering all his friends (including himself, regrettably) occasionally addressed him as _Fatass_. The redhead let out a sigh and reached out to take Eric’s hand. He ran his thumb over his knuckles and smiled. “What if I don’t want anyone else?”

Eric’s chest fluttered, but he remained unconvinced. “Then you’re an idiot.”

“I’m an idiot because I like you even though you’re a little overweight?”

“You can call me fat, Kyle, that’s what I am. You’ve said it yourself before,” Eric argued.

Kyle sighed, “Eric, I’m really sorry if what I said made you feel bad about your body. It was in retaliation for you belittling my religion and therefore culture and family. I seriously don’t give a shit about any of that, okay? I never have. I obviously find you super attractive or I wouldn’t be kissing you and trying to take your shirt off.”

Eric continued to avoid eye contact, but was unable to effectively do so when Kyle reeled in inches from his face. “I really, really like the way you look. Plus, I’m the one who wafted through the _I push everyone away by being a dick_ façade and got to know _you_ ,” he pressed a gentle kiss to Eric’s burning cheek. “The sweet, smart, hilarious, caring side that nobody else can see,” he interrupted himself to peck the opposite side of his face, and then his nose. “And even though you like to make fun of me, when it comes down to it you’re standing here telling me about how perfect I am and that I deserve better.”

“You do,” Eric barely managed to exhale. “You deserve everything.”

“Then be my everything! And let me be your’s,”

It was a very tempting argument. Turning it down was even harder when Kyle connected their mouths once again. If it was even possible, a stronger feeling consumed the two of them, and Eric squeezed his eyes shut and let himself give in. Making himself vulnerable to anything was against what he had taught himself all his life, but this seemed worth it. Kyle was worth it.

Desperately kissing the smaller boy, Eric’s hands reached beneath Kyle’s belt and freed the shirt he had half-tucked into his dark jeans. Managing to pull a soft moan from the back of his throat gave him the courage to continue the removal of the shirt as Kyle went to work with Eric’s belt. It was as if they were intoxicated—dizzied by the indescribable feelings they gave one another.

They clumsily stumbled to Kyle’s twin-sized mattress, ignoring their ungraceful steps. Kyle’s shirt was tossed to the floor, Eric’s soon following. His probing fingertips dragged slowly down his bare chest, his flat, smooth stomach, and to the button of his pants. The redhead pulled back from the extended kiss to watch what was occurring, very okay with and very aroused by the escalating situation. He gazed at Eric’s torso—chubby, of course, but so attractive to him. Kyle bit his lip and flicked his eyes up to Eric’s focused face.

As if feeling Kyle’s deep, brown stare, the brunette paused to look up at his face. Kyle was smiling so brightly. He could scream at how utterly perfect this boy was, and marvel at the fact that somehow and some way he managed to do something right and get this boy to grin at him like that. Perhaps he did not view himself as anywhere near worthy of Kyle’s attention, but he didn’t want to be anyone else in that moment. After mirroring the expression, he returned to the task at hand and gingerly slid his jeans down and off of his slim waist and thighs.

Kyle blushed at the exposure of his body but swiftly forgot about the minor embarrassment when Eric’s hand cupped his erection. A gasp turned into a pleased groan, and he gripped a fistful of soft hair as the other boy continuously flattened his palm against him. He had been touched like this in the past, but never with actual emotions attached. The waves of pleasure he received were unmatched.

Eric remained unsure about his risky actions, but watching Kyle’s face contort in desire was more than enough incentive to continue. The redhead’s soft whimpers were the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, and the rush of being intimate with someone in this way was something he couldn’t believe he deprived himself of for so long. Perhaps he was just waiting for Kyle all along and he didn’t even realize it until he entered his life.

Yearning to memorize every inch of Kyle’s tiny, lovely body, Eric paused his actions and pulled the black boxer briefs from his prominent hipbones. Kyle encouraged the behavior by continuing to weave his fingers further into Eric’s wispy hair and pulling the bedsheets into his fist. He arched his back and made a loud gasp when he felt Eric’s hand encase his erection.

Eric smirked as he began guiding his hand against Kyle’s dick. “I guess all Jews _are_ circumcised.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Kyle managed between moans, rolling his head back against his pillow and curling his toes. Eric’s hand was soft and warm, taking care of the most sensitive part of Kyle’s body with care and expertize. _Why can’t it feel this good when I do it_ , Kyle thought to himself.

Encouraging Kyle to reach his limits, Eric traced his hand and mouth along him for several minutes. Kyle’s legs shook and his stomach tightening as he was pushed over the edge. He said a silent prayer that this would be a reoccurring part of their vaguely confusing relationship.

Almost immediately after Eric helped him reach his high Kyle was determined to return the favor. Before Eric even got the chance to wipe himself clean, he was pulled down against the bed with his arms pinned to his sides. He was taken aback, but he was not complaining. It was his turn to gnaw on the inside of his cheek and moan as Kyle trailed his lips down his chest.

Kyle wasted no time when he reached Eric’s waist. Both his pants and underwear joined the pile of clothing that accumulated at Kyle’s bedside. Gripping Eric’s chubby thigh with one hand, Kyle steadied his throbbing erection with the other and pressed his lips to the tip. Eric did not have enough time to gasp before Kyle parted his mouth and swirled his tongue against his sensitive head. The brunette muttered, “Fuck.”

Kyle smirked to himself, enjoying the view of Eric shivering at his touch. He opened his jaw and took him in, hallowing his cheeks and beginning to carefully suck. Eric cupped a hand over his mouth to silence his loud groans as Kyle’s warm hand pleased whatever part of Eric he could not reach with his hot mouth.

Eric let himself whisper a string of colorful obscenities, astounded at how insanely _good_ this felt. It exceeded any expectation Pornhub or Kenny had given him in the past. He could not believe one person, one mouth, could make his body experience such ridiculously—almost painfully—incredible waves of ecstasy. It caused an even more intense appreciation for Kyle. Of course, it was easy to love someone when they were sucking your dick, but it went beyond the simplicity of sexual activities. This was a terrifying step for Eric when he considered the situation’s entirety. He was downright defenseless to Kyle—something he never allowed himself to be. Although it was difficult, he didn’t mind as much. Part of love was trusting that Kyle wouldn’t take advantage of the vulnerabilities he presented.

“Shit, Kyle,” Eric cursed. He wasn’t sure if he could _stand_ it, but he knew he would be finished in record time. He contained his need to yell out when Kyle had the nerve to hum against him—the vibrations drove him crazy.

Kyle was warned before Eric released himself, the mess covering himself and Kyle’s hand. Relieved, lustful differently colored eyes watched the redhead lick the sticky liquid from his fingers with a satisfied smile on his lip. Eric breathed out, “I think you enjoyed that too much.”

“Not nearly as much as you did,” Kyle retorted proudly. He reached over to his bedside table and pulled a few tissues from their box, wiping Eric and himself before pulling his briefs on.

After dressing again as well, Eric shifted towards the wall so that Kyle could fit beside him. He was still in a state of disarray due to the events of the night, but a warm smile never left his lips. Kyle’s grin returned when he took a look at Eric’s face. He said, “Y’know, I don’t usually do this sort of thing after the first date.”

“And I never do this sort of thing,” Eric admitted with a dry chuckle. “I guess we’re both out of our comfort zones.”

Kyle shrugged and turned to face him. With Eric’s warm, strong arm around his slim waist, he returned to his comfort zone. “Was I okay?”

“To be fair, I have nothing to compare you to, but I’m pretty sure that was fucking amazing.”

Kyle chuckle softly, meeting Eric’s eyes again. They possessed a gleam in them that was new to Kyle, something warm and inviting as if he was finally happy. He said, “You weren’t bad yourself. I have to ask, though… What did this mean to you?”

The question didn’t quite scare Eric as it would have before. Gaining the confidence to actually be open from Kyle’s kind gaze, he said, “A lot.”

Comforted by the confession, the redhead smiled and stole a sweet kiss from Eric’s mouth. He whispered, “Good. Getting Kenny and Clyde to stop pestering us about this is a bonus.”

“Damn right,” Eric scoffed. “I don’t know when that poor asshole got so invested in my love life but he needs to chill.”

Kyle laughed, blushing as Eric’s careful fingers traced his cheeks. “He just cares about you.”

“Well, it’s weird. He has a girlfriend for that shit.” Eric countered as he lowly glided the pads of his fingers against Kyle’s pretty face. Every detail was so important to him and simply being near it was an honor.

“Well, you’ve got a boyfriend for that shit now.” Kyle informed him.

Eric’s eyebrows knit together, heart racing. “Are you asking me out, Kyle Broflovski?”

“Only if you agree, Eric Cartman.”

Eric hummed, smiled. “I do enjoy getting blow jobs. I accept.”

“I really hope that isn’t the only deciding factor.” Kyle snorted, opening one eye to see Eric’s adorable, giddy grin.

The brunette shrugged, “Eh, just about. You _finally_ shut up when my dick’s in your mouth.”

“You sure don’t.” Kyle shot back before putting his head back and mocking Eric, “ _Fuck_ , _Kyle. Ugh, oh, Kyle, shit—“_

“Okay, asshole.” Eric laughed and covered Kyle’s lips with his fingers. “I may sort of adore you.”

“Sort of?” he mumbled against Eric’s fingers.

Eric huffed. “Fine. I totally adore you. But, if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”

Kyle’s frown became visible when the other boy removed his hand. “Shut up.”

They shared a laugh before their lips collided again. They stayed there for a while; two boyfriends kissing and laughing together. They figured it was a pretty good way to kick off the holiday season.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this is exactly triggering or not, but the topic of abortion is brought up in this chapter, so i thought I might as well put that in the notes

An enormous amount of guilt weighed on Craig as he watched Tweek try and fail to plug his charger into the small slot in the bottom of his iPhone. His trembling fingers would not allow the simple task to be completed easily. The blond had promised his boyfriend that he had truly calm down and that he was alright, but his increased nervous tendencies proved otherwise.

When Tweek finally managed to begin the charging processes of his cellular device, he joined Craig on the small mattress. Craig—who was clearly too tall for a twin-sized bed—shifted to compensate for the added body on the furniture. Tweek took in his boyfriend’s somber expression. While he possessed a general disposition that insinuated disinterest, there was a difference that Tweek immediately picked up on. He frowned himself, “Is everything okay?”

Craig merely nodded in reply as he reached up to remove the winter hat from atop his head, tossing it aside as his shaggy, black fringe was displayed. He melted back into the mattress and shut his eyes; little did he know, Tweek would be persistent in the face of issues that involved his happiness. He continued, “Let me rephrase—I know that not everything is okay, so what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, babe. It was just a shitty night.” Craig finally verbalized, eyelids remaining pressed together. “Go to bed, it’s late.”

“It’s eleven.” Tweek shot back.

“Exactly. Way past my bedtime.”

Tweek groaned and shook Craig with his palms on his chest, “C’mon, talk to me! What was so shitty about tonight?”

Craig scoffed, “Should I mention the part where my friends acted like total jackasses? Or should I skip ahead to where I wasn’t there for you when you were supposed to present your painting?”

Tweek sighed deeply. He had his own negative feelings and qualms about the events that took place, but it bothered him to a higher degree that Craig concerned himself with such things. He could fret about his decent GPA being flushed down the toilet along with the fact that he had an anxiety attack in front of fifty strangers and his entire class after Craig was reassured. “Craig, it-it’s okay, really. I’m sure I can do an alternative assignment or something, and you were there for me while I was having my panic attack! It really could have been a lot worse…”

Craig propelled himself upward from his reclined position on the mattress. His hazel gaze locked with his through the dim lighting. He was never one to be in touch with his emotions, or to eloquently express any more than what was plainly on the surface. However, with Tweek, there was an inexplicable quality that forced him from behind the walls he built around himself. Craig disagreed, “It shouldn’t have happened. They should have shut the fuck up and just did something for someone other than themselves for once. And I should have been there watching you the whole time. Your paintings are amazing and they deserved to be showed off. None of this was fair to you.”

Tweek sighed, “But it isn’t your fault! It just—It just happened the way it did, and it’s okay, because look what happened to us right now. Right in this moment,”

Craig’s lips reluctantly curled upwards at Tweek’s words. His boyfriend was parroting what he consistently told him in order to help him get a grip on his crippling anxiety. Craig droned, “Nothing.”

“Exactly,” Tweek replied with a proud smile. “Nothing happened to us. Maybe it didn’t go as planned, but things are okay.”

“I just feel like a shitty boyfriend. You needed someone and I wasn’t there for you like I promised I always would be. I want you to feel like you can count on me.” Craig admitted.

While Craig’s sweet moments in which he granted him a compliment or an impromptu kiss on the cheek were not entirely scarce, his vulnerable moments were something of a rarity. He possessed a stoic and vaguely mysterious persona—making it pretty difficult to know just what he was feeling unless he divulged that information himself. Tweek bit down on his bottom lip, searching Craig’s handsome face and finding sincerity woven into his expression. The blond raised his slightly trembling hand to press his fingertips gently to Craig’s jawline. “Honestly, what you did tonight made me feel the opposite… You weren’t in the seats where I thought you’d be, but you were talking to Clyde and Bebe while they were fighting. You were trying to be there for them while you were trying to be there for me. It makes me feel good that you care about me and you care about your friends. I don’t count on many people, and I barely even count on myself, but I know that I can count on you. You make me believe in myself in a way that no one else has before.”

While Craig’s features remained the same, his gleaming eyes reflected the pleasant pounding of his heart. He absorbed what his boyfriend had told him for a few moments before replying, “All I want is for you to believe in yourself. You’re the best, Tweek. I just want to do whatever I can to make you see what I see.”

Tweek assured him. “You do, which makes you the best!”

The taller boy chuckled softly, nonverbally disagreeing with the statement. Tweek knew what the chuckle meant, and instead of proving how undeniably correct he was with words, he took a rare leap of faith for himself and leaned into Craig’s face. He pushed his lips up against Craig’s and kissed him with fever. Craig’s dark eyebrows rose, pleasantly surprised, as he gratefully returned the gesture. Tweek surprised himself with his ability to come back from a massive panic attack and a terrible public mishap, but something inside of him simply changed due to Craig’s presence and support—he was finally taking back control of his life, and it felt pretty great.

_

Stan Marsh’s state of being related to every possible synonym of the word _awful_ that there was. For the past few years of his life, he had put all his energy into becoming an exceptional athlete and to obtain control over his struggles with mental illness and addiction. As soon as things seemed to be finally playing in his favor and he allowed himself to be content under the conclusion that he would be okay, the universe mocked him with just another catastrophe. The worst part was that he only had himself to blame—as always.

He had been fantasizing about his mother’s delicious Christmas feast since the week until winter break countdown began, and just when he felt the slightest bit of excitement for being able to go home for the holidays, a text message delayed his packing routine and decent mood. Wendy had requested to meet up with him before his flight.

Stan obliged despite the concern of being late. While Wendy was generally kind and enjoyable to be around, she would become extremely impatient and angry with Stan very quickly. He was not sure if pregnancy hormones were to blame, or she merely did not like him, but it rendered him even guiltier. Frankly, he was too self-loathing and flat-out exhausted to protest any negative accusation she thrust on him. 

Per request, Stan arrived at Starbucks just three hours before he was due to fly home to his family. He scanned the small café in search of the familiar face that beckoned him to the rendezvous point. When they detected a beautiful girl in the corner of the establishment he begrudgingly made his way to her.

Wendy peered up from her book when Stan arrived before her. He granted her a polite greeting and slotted into the empty wooden chair across form her. Her long, silky black hair lay across her shoulders, her deep, brown eyes were aesthetically accentuated by winged eyeliner and her painted lips complimented the colors of her outfit. Stan couldn’t help but admired her attractive appearance, but their tense situation pulled him from those thoughts.

“So, you needed to talk to me about something?” Stan awkwardly grasped for a beginning to the conversation.

Wendy nodded slowly. Her expression was strange, and unreadable to Stan. Normally she was a decent mixture of stressed out and livid, but this time she seemed to be something altogether unfamiliar. It was a minute before she found her voice and spoke lowly. “About the baby…” Stan assumed the spontaneous meeting would revolve around the only topic they truly had in common, so he waited for her to continue the thought. “I haven’t told my parents yet, and I’ve been giving it a lot of thought… I’m studying to be a biochemist, Stan. It’s a prestigious career that I’ve put a lot of hard work into what I do. I’ve already missed a couple classes because of morning sickness and that alone set me back a few paces. I can’t afford to be behind.”

Remaining confused, Stan asked. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m taking an ulterior approach to this issue. Before my parents find out, and before any real damage can be done to our futures.” Wendy explained, sugar coating her implications.

The boy’s jaw fell slightly, “Do you mean you’re thinking about getting an abortion?”

“Stanley!” Wendy exclaimed, darting wide eyes around the room. “I am trying to be discreet!”

“I’m sorry,” Stan retorted, remaining caught off guard, “I’m sorry, I just didn’t even consider that, honestly,”

Knowing what little she knew of Stan’s personality and morality, she had expected him to have an issue with her decision. “Look, I know this may be hard for you to hear, but my entire life is on the line here! I can’t be…” she lowered her voice to practically inaudible, “ _pregnant_ and get to all my classes and exams on time. On top of that, I can’t travel abroad like I’ve already paid to do.”

Merely unsure of how to react or what to say, Stan stayed silent for a moment before slowly replying, “Well, thank you for telling me, Wendy... I’m sorry you even have to go through this, I would carry this baby for you in a heartbeat if I could, but can’t, so… whatever you do, it’s totally your choice.”

Wendy pressed her vibrant pink lips together, taking a turn to be caught off guard. Emotions were bubbling within her. She didn’t know what she expected—or wanted—to hear from Stan regarding her back-up plan, but she didn’t predict to feel so supported and understood, “Thank you, Stan. I’m just not ready to be pregnant… I’m not ready to be a mother.”

Stan’s heart clenched after hearing the brokenness of Wendy’s voice. The tears welling in her wide eyes mirrored the way he felt on the inside; hopeless, lost. He let out a sigh through his nose and slowly reached out a hand to cup over Wendy’s dainty one. In attempts to not draw attention to herself, she held back the waterworks and placed a hand on her cheek. She stared down at Stan’s large, warm hand comfortingly covering hers and listened to his soft tone speak lowly, “I can only half-way imagine how you must be feeling right now. I don’t think I’m ready to be a dad, either... You know, I know you aren’t my biggest fan, but I could go with you, if you want. Just, y’know, for support.”

A faint smile showed itself across Wendy’s mouth. Her gaze was much less harsh than Stan was accustomed to receiving from her. Instead it was almost warm and admiring. He continued slowly, “I’m sorry about all of this. I will help you in absolutely any way that I can. I promise you, Wendy.”

The noirette inhaled a shaky breath. She wanted nothing more than to have complete and utter trust in the boy in front of her but the fact of the matter was that he was basically a stranger to her. They were completely devoid of knowledge of one another’s personal lives and stories and ambitions and motivations and fears and all other basic but meaningful facts and attributes. While Stan Marsh was not her particularly favorite person in the world and there was a perhaps unjustified grudge against him, a part of her desired to know all these things about him for the first time.

Wendy cleared her throat, piecing together a reply after a bought of silent consideration. “This is really scary for me. Nothing about this is anything I’ve had to juggle before. I’ve rarely made mistakes until now, and I just can’t come to terms with it all… If you could just, be here for me… Take me to the appointment, keep it between us… It would really help me, Stan.”

While his thoughts remained disorganized, a wave of relief washed over Stan. At the very least he could worry less about destroying an innocent child’s life, and Wendy may end up wanting something to do with him after all. “Of course. Of course, anything you need. I’m here for you.”

The teenagers stared at one another from across the table. Their relationship was unconventional and chaotic and they had skipped a few traditional levels of intimacy, yet there was still something new and exciting and juvenile between them, as if they had just been partnered up for a high school science project and they were making doe-eyes to one another. Wendy had no clue what was in store for the two of them, but for then, turning her hand and squeezing Stan’s tightly seemed to be a step worth taking for her.


	20. Chapter 20

After Stan brought him up to speed on his pre-flight conversation with Wendy at Starbucks, Kyle’s jaw slacked with shock. He took his time formulating an answer. “Well, this is a good thing, isn’t it? You were so worried about taking care of the kid or putting them through some shitty foster-care system.”

“Yeah,” Stan sighed. “And now I think I may actually have a shot with Wendy, so that’s cool. I don’t know, I just have to be honest… I’m, like, just disappointed, I think.”

“Disappointed about what?” Kyle questioned, quirking his head at his friend.

“I don’t know,” The stressed teenager groaned, the information seemingly coming to him as quickly as Kyle, “I think I was just kind of getting excited to be a dad?” 

Kyle fought a grin at his friend’s confession. While he was unware of Stan’s feelings towards parenthood, it was completely characteristic of his compassionate, gentle friend to long for someone to care for, love, and mentor. “You will most definitely be a dad, Stan, even if it isn’t this year, next year, or the next. It’ll be awesome, and you’ll be way more ready.”

Stan smiled at the thought, “As per usual, you’re right. Man, this whole thing just kind of showed me that even if I don’t accomplish all the things I want to with my football career or college or whatever, I think I’d just be happy with an awesome family.”

“That’s a surprisingly good take-away from this situation,” Kyle replied, allowing himself to grin back at his friend. “Are you and Wendy going to work out as a couple?”

If the question had been posed just a day prior, Stan would have retorted indignantly with a flat out _hell no_. However, he acknowledged the somewhat chemistry that was born at the coffee establishment earlier that day. Perhaps they were not in a decent place currently but something in the way Wendy gazed back at him and grasped his hand tightly made him wonder if there was a shot at a romance. Stan said, “I don’t know, dude. I’m willing, and wanting, to try for it, but I just don’t know where her mind’s at with anything. All I really have to go on is that she’s freaking out.”

Kyle gave him a pat on the leg, “At least you’ve got someone who’s going through almost exactly what you are. It sounds like you handled it pretty well, so maybe she appreciates it and realizes you aren’t evil for not being able to pull out.”

Stan growled, leaning his head on Kyle’s shoulder. “I still wish I was gay.”

“Yeah, because being straight and not having to come out to anyone or be afraid of being beaten up or disowned is so much harder.” Kyle replied with a smirk.

“Hey, it was a joke!” Stan exclaimed, chuckling along with Kyle when he was sure that he was not serious. “I’m just saying, you’re in a happy relationship and I’ve got this mess. Although, your boyfriend is gross.”

Kyle rolled his eyes, grinning at the mere mention of Eric. “He’s not _gross_ , you’re just a douchebag.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s Eric.” Stan quipped, earning a swift, and surprisingly hard, punch to the shoulder.

“Eric’s really great to me, okay? I mean, I know he’s got his flaws. Like, _a lot_ of flaws, but honestly, they don’t even matter to me. He treats me nice and makes me happy, and that’s pretty much the only qualifications for a relationship that I’m a stickler on.”

Stan shrugged, “I guess you have a point. I just really don’t think he’s good enough for you.”

“He’s cute, funny, and nice to me. What could be better?” Kyle wondered. He was trying so hard to keep the dopey smile from splitting his face in half.

“Let’s see…” Stan hummed sardonically and counted on his fingers, “Someone who’s nice to other people, more politically correct, and doesn’t think making stupid, anti-Semitic, inappropriate jokes is funny. Just, like, not Cartman.”

“He _is_ only joking. Like I said, I know he isn’t perfect, but when you actually get to know him, he’s really sweet. Plus, he’s just been through a lot.” Kyle defended.

The other boy cocked an eyebrow, “Well, as long as your happy. I don’t think he’ll ever be willing to get to know me, though, being a hippie and all.”

Kyle laughed, repeating, “He is not perfect…” 

Stan chuckled, gesturing to his friend, “See, you know you deserve better!”

The redhead sighed, and with a grin, he explained himself again, “Stan, I’m serious—he makes me really happy. I know not everyone would insult their boyfriend or girlfriend, but it’s just kind of our thing. I like that we can joke like that and we don’t have to take ourselves or the relationship too seriously. It takes a lot of pressure off of me. I _really_ like Eric.”

Stan narrowed his eyes after chewing and swallowing Kyle’s extrapolation, “Do you _love_ him?”

“I don’t know, maybe…” Kyle admitted with a childlike beam plastered across his face.

Stan hopped to his feet, a dramatic gasp purposefully dragged out as he pointing at Kyle, “You do! You’re totally in love!”

“Shut up! Maybe! I don’t know!” Kyle shot back after shoving Stan’s outstretched arm aside.

“Ugh, I’m gonna have to put up with that asshole for the rest of my life.” Stan groaned, slumping back down on the mattress beside Kyle. “If he talks about me growing vaginas from not eating meat again the next time I see him, I’m dumping him _for_ you.”

“Boys, food!” Kyle’s mother’s New Jersey accent carried from the kitchen and into the bedroom. The two exchanged hesitated, not overly eager to feast upon a homemade kosher meal. After a few moments with no movement, Sheila added, “I ordered pizza!”

“Oh, sweet!” Kyle exclaimed, pushing himself from the mattress with Stan shadowing behind him.

When they reached the hallway, Kyle’s thirteen year-old brother, Ike, was also rushing to the kitchen to shove his face with the rare delicacy. Without even glancing up at the older boys, Ike said, “If you assholes hog all the breadsticks again I’ll schleep you.”

Pausing in their tracks, Stan peered confusedly over at Kyle as the younger boy hurried to the kitchen. “What the hell is _schleep_?”

“I have no idea,” Kyle sighed, shaking his head. “Kids these days are fucking weird.”

_

The drive to Butters’s Aunt Nelly’s home in Denver was relatively short. She was thrilled to be reunited with her aunts, and even more so for them to meet Kenny. While Kenny partially shared the enthusiasm, he did not have the best track record with significant other’s guardians. Perhaps it would be a different case since Kaylee and Nelly did not know him as the poor kid in town whose parents were notorious drug addicts.

“Are you alright, Ken?” Butters inquired as she noticed her boyfriend nervously drumming his fingers against his leg as he blew smoke out of the partially opened window. It was his third cigarette just since they left campus, and while she had grown accustomed to his habit and the smell of tobacco permanently lingering on him, it was out of the ordinary.

Kenny lifted his eyebrows, shifted his gaze to her, “What’cha mean?”

Butters detected his remaining gape, despite breaking the eye contact in order to focus on the road. “You seem tense.”

“Nah, I’m fine. I just don’t really do adults.” Kenny admitted with a forced chuckle.

She gave an understanding nod and placed a comforting hand on Kenny’s thigh, “Don’t worry, darlin’, they’re going to love you! Just be your cute self.”

The words of affirmation brought a grin to his lips. Kenny scooped her hand up in his and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, smiling harder when he noticed a flushed giggle. “I’ll try.”

On arriving at their home in a quiet, suburban neighborhood, the couple exited the vehicle together. Kenny stared at large, white-shingled ranch and took in a long breath. Soon enough, Butters was at his side with innocent blue eyes gazing up at him expectantly. “Sure you’ll be okay?”

When he felt Butters’s hand slot into his again, he felt much better. A half-smile spread his lips and he nodded his head. With the confirmation, Butters lead her boyfriend to the front door and pressed her finger against the bell. A short ringing tune sounded before it left them silently waiting in the freezing weather for the door to be answered.

A few moments later, the classy glass door was pulled ajar, revealing a petite woman with a wide smile and long, wavy blonde hair. “Well hey! Come on in, you two.”

“Hey, Aunt Nel!” Butters greeted happily on stepping into the home, hugging the other woman tightly. “Where’s Kaylee?”

“She’s cooking some dinner.” Nelly answered, gesturing to the kitchen. She then peered up to Kenny. “And you must be the boyfriend.”

“Guilty,” Kenny confirmed with an uneasy grin.

With a soft chuckle, Nelly replied, “Well, it’s great to finally meet you, Kenny.”

The nervous boy nodded. “Same goes, ma’am.”

“Let’s go meet Kaylee, Ken!” Butters suggested excitedly, gripping Kenny’s forearm and tugging him towards the kitchen with surprising strength.

Stirring white sauce in a pan was a dark haired woman clad in a long, floral dress. It vaguely resembled a garment from straight out of 1956, but she made it work. She seemed to be a good amount taller than Nelly, and very pretty. Kenny assumed she was Butters’s other aunt, and thus Kaylee. These suspicions were confirmed when Butters trotted up behind her and wrapped her in a tight hug.

Laughing, Kaylee glanced down at the tiny blonde that had been attached to her middle, “Well, hey, doll.”

Kenny had to smile at how cute Butters looked with that ecstatic expression plastered to her beautiful face. The fact that she was clad in one of his sweatshirts made her even more adorable. He possessed the urge to scoop her up in his arms and kiss those amazing lips, but instead he was being introduced to gay aunt number two.

“Kaylee, this is Kenny, my boyfriend. I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about him already, ‘cause… Well, ‘cause I’ve told you a lot about him…” Butters spoke, wishing she had ended her dialogue sooner.

“You _certainly_ have.” Kaylee shook her head endearingly before shaking Kenny’s hand and grinning at him. “It’s very nice to meet you, hon.”

“You too, ma’am. If it’s any consolation, she’s told me a lot about you, too.” Kenny replied, earning an eye roll from his girlfriend and a laugh from Kaylee.

Kaylee spoke as she turned back to her cooking, “I hope you kids are hungry. I’m making fettucine alfredo.”

“I really hope you’re hungry,” Nelly added to the conversation on entering the room. “Kaylee has a habit of making way too much food for two tiny women.”

“Hey, that just means we have lunch for the next couple days also!” Kaylee defended herself as she sprinkled a cup of parmesan cheese into the concoction.

Butters testified, “I wouldn’t be complaining. Kaylee’s one heck of a cook.”

“I don’t deny it,” Nelly promised, bustling over to her wife and planting a kiss on her cheek. “Beautiful and talented.”

Kaylee rolled her eyes, but smiled, “Now you’re just talking about yourself.”

Though Kenny was nervous, the environment was a fantastic one; he really loved lesbians. Not only was he assured that he was completely accepted, he knew that Butters also felt that way.

“Kenny, Butters, could I get a hand with setting the table?” Nelly requested as she attempted to remove the ceramic plates from a shelf that was more than likely meant for Kaylee to remove things from.

“Of course!” Butters chirped, pulling open the silverware drawer and collecting forks and knives.

Kenny took a couple strides towards Nelly after watching her struggle with retrieving the plates from the shelf that was a foot and a half above her head. “Let me get those,” he spoke. Nelly side-stepped with a relieved sigh as Kenny easily pulled the plates from the shelf.

“Oh, thank you sweetheart. This is why I use a step-stool.”

Kenny grinned and shadowed her into the adjacent dining room where the two arranged the plates and napkins. In Kenny’s absence, Kaylee quickly turned to her niece-in-law and lowered her voice, “He is so cute!”

“I know!” Butters giggled happily, covering her blushing cheeks. “And funny, and sweet, and _tall_ , and _into me_. He’s really perfect.”

“That’s so great. I knew college would be good for you.” Kaylee grinned.

Kenny and Nelly returned shortly after Kaylee had finished her statement. When his brown eyes landed on Butters’s, she couldn’t help but inwardly continue to gush. She absolutely loved to show Kenny off and brag about him to anyone that would listen, and to be able to do so to the two women whose opinions mattered most to her was quite fulfilling for her. Butters trotted over to her boyfriend as Nelly aided Kaylee in draining the noodles. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid the side of her face against his shoulder.

Grinning, Kenny curled his arm around Butters’s small frame. “You good, baby?” he whispered against her head.

“I’m great.” She promised with a content hum.

Soon enough, Butters was even better. After ingesting copious quantities of Chinese take-out and bland salads from the university’s cafeteria, a home-cooked meal was the epitome of food. As her stomach began to grow fuller and Kenny began to slowly come out of his shell with her aunts, she felt so _happy_. Everything in her life seemed to finally be coming together and becoming wonderful as she had always dreamed it would be.

“I’ve gotta use the restroom.” Butters announced as she took to her feet. She patted Kenny’s shoulder as she passed him and walked down the hall.

Kaylee and Nelly exchanged glances and waited until they heard the bathroom door click shut before simultaneously leaning against the table. Nelly spoke in a lowered tone, “Kenny, I cannot tell you how crazy that girl is about you.”

Kenny’s eyes widened slightly with the sudden attention he was being pinned with, but he didn’t dislike what he was hearing. Kaylee added, “Oh, my god, she never shuts up about how sweet and wonderful and adorable you are.”

Flattered, his smile was all dimples and rosy cheeks, “Damn. That means a lot coming from the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“Aw!” Nelly cooed, placing a hand over her heart. “I am so glad she has you. She deserves so much after everything she’s been through.”

That sentence was the first snippet of the slightly confidential conversation that Butters detected after finishing her business and exiting the bathroom. She stopped in her tracks before making her presence common knowledge and listened for more context, her stomach twisting unpleasantly.

Kenny nodded, “Yeah, she’s had a rough go. I’m obviously not perfect, but I’d do anything to make her happy.”

“You’re doing a pretty good job so far,” Nelly assured him. “She texts me at least once a day about something sweet you’ve said to her or done for her. I was really skeptical of how she’d be treated in college, just given everything we’ve been through, but it’s been so refreshing. She really adores you.”

Kenny smiled, “I’m glad, ‘cause I really love her.”

 _Love her_. The words echoed in Butters’ brain and made her knees feel weak. She made a sincere effort to bite back the giant smile that broke out over her face, but she couldn’t contain it. Perhaps she was not meant to hear it herself, but she had—Kenny _loved_ her.

After a brief few moments were spent composing herself, Butters stepped through the door and reentered the dining room. The three averted their attention to her as she took her seat again and flashed them a smile. As they slipped back into casual conversation, she reached her hand under the table and grabbed Kenny’s hand. He reciprocated the gesture by lacing their fingers together. As she tried her darnedest to pay attention to one of Nelly’s office allegories, Butters couldn’t stop thinking of how badly she wanted to pounce on Kenny and kiss him all over—declaring over and over again how much she loved him, too.

For the first time in her life, Butters knew she was going to have a merry Christmas.


	21. Chapter 21

If Kenny had been anxious about meeting Butters’s family, he was absolutely terrified of introducing her to his own. The obstacle was unavoidable, however, if he wished to see his little sister during the holiday season. Butters helped him procure an acceptable gift for the sixteen year-old, who he understood considerably less as she grew older and dolls and toys were no longer suitable presents.

“Ken,” Butters addressed her boyfriend, who had returned to the same silently uncomfortable state as he had been in on approaching her own home. “Well, I know you’re nervous and all, but you gotta stop smoking so much!”

“Sorry, baby,” Kenny sighed, flicking his fifth and unfinished cigarette out of the window. The lump in his throat only worsened when they finally came across the familiar, wooden ‘South Park’ sign after passing his peers houses. “I won’t smoke for the rest of the hour.”

“Gee, thanks.” Butters giggled, then peered over at Kenny expectantly, “Keep goin’ straight?”

Kenny sighed, “Yup, just a little further… There’s Cartman’s house,”

Butters glanced at the green house, eyeing a huge, shiny black truck. “Is that his mom’s car?”

“Nope, that’s his. His mom didn’t let him bring it because he got into his third wreck a week or so before we left.”

“Does she got a lot of money or somethin’?” Butters questioned as she approached a level railroad crossing.

Kenny chuckled, “Not really, she just spoils him.”

“That would explain a lot,” she commented as she rolled her car over the tracks.

“And, here we are,” Kenny announced unenthusiastically as they came upon his small family home.

Butters parked her vehicle outside, granting Kenny a reassuring grin before they headed towards the house. “It’s gonna be alright, okay? We don’t even have to stay real long if you don’t want.”

“I definitely don’t want,” Kenny replied with a grin, accepting a kiss on the lips before exiting the car.

Butters scrutinized the McCormick residence, inwardly confirming the warnings from Kenny and Eric that it was shabby. The building alone was dilapidated and unkempt, with obvious cracks in the foundations visible and a busted window highlighting the neglect it had suffered. Surrounding the house was a myriad of additional unattractive qualities, such as an abandoned refrigerator beside the entrance, a broken down truck rusting away before the garage, and loose garbage and tires littering the snow-laden yard. Attempting to keep an open mind, she ignored her newfound discomfort and allowed Kenny to lead her inside.

Hatred for himself and his origins festered inside of him as he pushed open the front door to find the front room perfectly reflecting the ragged outside. Empty beer cans, discarded mail, a Playboy magazine, and a full ash tray covered a small coffee table beside a threadbare couch. Kenny shrugged, “At least dad moved the leaky carburetor,”

Confused, Butters eyed Kenny as he slipped into a seemingly old routine and shut off the blaring television before scooping up the cans. He ambled toward the kitchen to discard the trash, leaving his girlfriend to gaze around at the leaks in the ceiling and holes in the dry-wall. She perked her head toward the other room when she heard a Southern accent greet Kenny.

“Hi, Kenny! When did you get back down here?”

“Hey, mom. Just yesterday,” Kenny replied, tracing over to the kitchen table to lean down and grant her a short hug. He analyzed her appearance and decided there was no need to force her to clean up before meeting his girlfriend—her clothes seemed clean and vomit-free, and her ginger hair was pulled back into a neat bun. “Karen and Kevin here?”

“Kevin’s workin’, but Karen’s in her room,” she answered, taking in the sight of her son. Kenny had always been her most responsible offspring, and it warmed her heart to see him flourish and attend some form of higher education. She was proud of his grit and strength, as she was somewhat cognizant of what he had been through growing up. As well as his admirable character, she took pride in the handsome young man he had grown into; although, she wished he would trim his unruly hair, shave his blond stubble, and remove the ridiculous lip accessory. “Did you bring your new girlfriend?”

Rather surprised she had recalled that detail of his life, Kenny grinned and trekked back into the other room to find Butters remaining by the entrance, checking her phone. “Hey, baby, c’mere and meet my mom.”

Butters obliged his beckoning and stepped into the other room, where she saw a woman sitting at a kitchen table decorated similarly to the coffee table. Although she had bright, red hair, she and Kenny shared virtually identical faces, including tiny freckles splattering her cheeks and light, brown eyes. She flashed her a shy smile, instinctually leaning into Kenny for support. “Hi, I’m Leah.”

“Well, hi, Leah, I’m Kenny’s mama, but you can call me Carol,” she returned pleasantly, granting her a wave. Carol stood to her feet and shut the magazine she had been viewing, “I’ll go and get your sister, and your present.”

Kenny’s narrowed eyes followed his mother out of the kitchen. Detecting his confusing, Butters wondered, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, she’s just… being really normal,” Kenny answered, “I wonder what she’s on.”

Butters nudged him, disapproving of his comment, but unable to reprimand him before another female voice sounded excitedly, “Kenny!”

Kenny instantly forgot about his mother’s suspicious behavior when he listened to his sister’s pounding footsteps find him beside the fridge, where she attacked him with a hug. Chuckling, he returned the gesture, “Hey!”

Smiling to herself, she watched the reunion of her boyfriend and his teenage sister, who also shared very similar facial features despite long, light brown hair instead of matching blond waves. Karen let him go and dropped her voice to a whisper before sharing some information with him, “Dude, mom has been so awesome lately! She bought us all Christmas gifts!”

Before Kenny could confusedly reply, Karen turned to see her big brother’s girlfriend that he had told her about over text. She flashed the taller, blonde girl a grin that resembled Kenny’s, “Hey, you must be Butters!”

Butters grinned at the use of her nickname, and gave Karen a small wave, “That’s me,”

“It’s really nice to meet you!” Karen spouted before returning her attention to the familiar face, “Did Cartman’s boyfriend come, too? I got to meet whatever weirdo wants to put up with him!”

Kenny and Butters laughed in unison at the comment, but the humor somewhat left her face when she witnessed Karen remove a few cigarettes from a pack of Marlboros left on the kitchen counter. She pursed her lips together when Kenny raised an eyebrow at her, “You’re not taking after me too much, are you?”

“If I’m being completely honest, I sell them more than anything,” Karen assured him. “I’m an entrepreneur.”

“Alright, honey,” Carol announced on returning to the room with a gift bag in her hand. She grinned and handed it to Kenny, who appeared as if he was not sure what to do with it. “You can go on an open it now since you won’t be here Christmas,”

Karen pouted at the revelation, “You won’t?!”

Kenny stammered, experiencing an unexpected pang of guilt as he set the green and red bag on the counter, “Uh, no, we’re gonna be up at Leah’s aunt’s place, and it’s a good two hours away.”

“Oh, alright,” Karen accepted, deflated.

“Go on an open it up, Kenny, your dad won’t be here ‘til late. Not that he’d give a shit, anyhow,” his mother told him as she ignited a cigarette.

Doing as he was told, he pulled the tissue paper from the bag and pulled out a soft, white Millville Community College hoodie. He grinned at the completely unexpected gift, realizing she must feel prideful in him for attending the university. “Thanks, mom, this is nice.”

“I helped pick it out,” Karen assured.

Carol waved her hand at the girl, “You just told me he wears large.”

Kenny chuckled, giving his mom another side hug. “I appreciate it. Let me go get your guys stuff out of the car.”

“Sweet!” Karen exclaimed as Kenny headed back outside. Butters felt somewhat panic for being left alone with Kenny’s family, but had essentially no time to dwell on it before Kenny’s bubbly sister pounced, “So, what’s it like up there in college? How is everyone doing?”

“Oh, uh, well it’s real nice up there, and Kenny seems to be doin’ awful well in his classes. He’s working almost every night, but he’s managing somehow.” Butters answered, rubbing her knuckles together nervously.

Carol grinned, flicking off ash from her cigarette, “That’s my boy, already done more than his daddy ever did with his life.”

Karen rolled her eyes at her mother’s dig at her other parent, returning to inquiry mode, “How’s Clyde? Is he still broken up with Bebe? Do you know if he’s coming here?”

“I think they’re back together, but I’m not sure, actually,” Butters told her despite her wariness of Karen’s interest in her friend.

“I really hope not. He’s so hot,” the brunette revealed the reasoning for her interest with a far-off smile. She recoiled when she earned a joking slap from her mother.

“You are fifteen, girl, don’t go flirtin’ with your brother’s friends no more! He’s an adult now, you’ll get him in trouble!”

Karen shrugged, “Not if nobody finds out about it.”

The three chuckled together as Kenny returned, two envelopes for his brother and parents and a small bag for his sister in hand. He distributed the gifts before draping an arm around Butters’s shoulders. As her boyfriend’s family tore into their gifts, she glanced up at him, “Hey, are Clyde and Bebe back together?”

“Yep,” Kenny confirmed.

“Seriously?” Karen grunted, pausing to address her brother, “Since when?!”

Kenny rolled his eyes, “Don’t tell me you still have a weird crush on him,”

She mumbled an undetectable response before pulling out the various small items Kenny and Butters compiled into her present. Butters felt very accomplished when she was particularly excited about the eyeshadow pallet she had chosen for her. Carol was very grateful for the gift card Kenny had purchased them, and his older brother’s envelope sat unopened on the table for him to find later.

The remainder of the visit was much longer and more pleasant then Kenny had planned for. Despite the undesirable setting, Butters thoroughly enjoyed engaging with his boyfriend’s family, learning about his childhood, and visiting Kenny’s bedroom (thought she was vaguely disturbed at the amount of raunchy posters plastered onto his walls). Kenny was in high spirits when they decided it was time to return to Butters’s aunt’s home a few hours away.

“Well, that was real nice!” Butters said with a grin as she climbed into the passenger’s seat.

Kenny nodded, maneuvering the car off of the McCormick property, “Honestly, yeah. I’m still pretty shocked that my mom was sober, nice, and got me a gift.”

Butters took Kenny’s hand in her’s as he drifted through South Park. “Does she not usually?”

“Well, I’m nineteen, and this is probably the fifth Christmas present I’ve gotten from her, so,” Kenny shook his head. “Also, I’m sorry that Karen is fucking obsessed with you.”

Butters giggled, brushing off the saddening information about his parent’s lack of effort in his life. “Oh, she’s real sweet. It’s nice since I don’t got any siblings!”

Kenny smiled warmly, squeezing her hand, “Well, baby, you’re family now.”

Butters grinned as they drifted into comfortable silence; however, she became slightly disappointed as she still waited and wondered when she would hear Kenny admit that he was in love with her.

_

Winter break ended three weeks after it started and Kyle was beyond ready to get back to school. After the upcoming semester, he would have the opportunity to reapply for a college with a better program. He was encouraged to push himself even harder after receiving six straight A’s and a 4.0 GPA on his transcript.

Another reason for his eagerness to return to the Millville Community College was Eric. They had united a few times over the break, as their hometowns were adjacent to one another, but he undoubtedly missed the close proximity of their dorms. Being able to walk thirty feet and see him was a luxury.

In honor of the very last night of winter break, Kyle and his group of friends decided to celebrate at Derek’s Diner. Thankfully any qualms between individual members of the group had been resolved over the vacation and there was no uncomfortable tension. Even Craig and Clyde had returned to normal.

“So, Kyle, how was Hanukkah?” Kenny inquired between large bites of greasy cheeseburger. While he had spent a majority of the break with Butters’s aunts, and had reoccurring visits with his family that all turned out fairly well (despite one in which his mother and father began yelling at one another). Karen and Butters got along famously the whole break, and Kevin also seemed to be charmed by Kenny’s girlfriend after the few interactions they had with one another.

Kyle shrugged, “It was about how it always is. Eight days. A menorah was lit.”

“Did you get anything other than a dreidel?” Eric inquired with mock sincerity. He laughed at the eye roll he earned from his Jewish boyfriend while dodging the soft punch to his shoulder.

Tweek spoke up, which was a vaguely rare occurrence due to his discomposure in nearly every situation ever. “Do you still eat fiber on Christmas night, Kyle?”

“Oh, God.” Kyle groaned, slapping himself in the forehead.

The South Park natives at the table did not understand the inside joke, exchanging confused glances before focusing their attention of the jittery blond. When he realized his position in the conversation as the center of attention his eyes widened, “Well, uh, when Kyle and I were kids at Fairplay kids started to make fun of him because he didn’t celebrate Christmas. Because he’s, y’know, Jewish… So, uh, he had this story about Mr. Hankey—The Christmas Poo.”

“The Christmas _what_?” Bebe pressed with an off-put expression. The distaste intensified when she glanced to her right to see her boyfriend cracking up at the idea.

Kyle was laughing as well, but defended himself, “Okay, it’s this story that our cafeteria chef told me to make me feel better! It was like, inclusive Santa that would bring you gifts, but for whatever reason it was a piece of shit. I’m not even sure where it came from, honestly.”

“That’s fucking weak, dude.” Eric chuckled, shaking his head.

Tweek attempted to control his giggles as he said, “Yeah, that dude was weird. He was in a cult and everything. Do you remember the song, though?”

With a deep sigh, Kyle stared down at his half-drunk glass of lemonade and absently stirred the plastic straw. He sang in a monotone voice, “Mr. Hankey, the Christmas poo. He loves me, I love you. Therefore, vicariously, he loves you—even if you’re a Jew.”

The group of friends lost it. After forcing Kyle to repeat the song at least four times, they begrudgingly let the subject die with a promise to Tweek that he was going to kill him for bringing that up. Everyone gave an ephemeral testimony of their endeavor, which included a bit too much information from Clyde about how he and Bebe consummated their reunion. The entirety of Craig’s update consisted of, “Tweek and I got coffee once. My new phone is cool.”

After the reunion dinner had come to an end, the group dispersed based on couples. Although they had not been apart from one another for terribly long periods of time, it felt like a breath of fresh air to return to the origin of all of their relationships and to the independency of college life.

“You know what’s weird?” Kyle perpetuated the dialogue on returning to his vacant dorm room. The space was just as he had left it, unfortunately including the disaster on Clyde’s half. He slumped down onto the mattress and watched his boyfriend follow.

“Fringed boots?” Eric guessed after lowering himself beside the redhead on the mattress.

“Well, yeah,” Kyle agreed before continuing, “But, my original thought was that all of us in the group are dating each other.”

Eric shrugged, “And?”

“And, I don’t know, it’s just coincidental. Like, this group of eight people all paired up, you know? It’s like gay fate.”

Eric snorted and kicked off his worn-down Vans as Kyle dipped off the side of the bed and retrieved his laptop from his duffel bag. He grunted, “We’ve got about forty-five minutes of battery life on this thing because I’m too lazy to get the charger.”

“Fair enough. When it dies we can make out until Clyde and Craig come in and start being obnoxious.” Eric suggested sardonically with a cheesy grin.

Kyle chuckled as he finished turning on an episode of _Friends_ for the two to disregard as they sat together on the twin bed. He rested his mess of auburn curls against Eric’s shoulder and subconsciously hummed along to the show’s theme tune. After a few moments he posed a question, “Does your mom know you’re gay?”

“Yeah, not that she cares.”

A frown tugged the corners of Kyle’s lips downward. Tilting his head upwards to meet Eric’s face, he asked, “What do you mean?”

He peered back at Kyle for a brief second, but snapped his eyes back to the small screen of his laptop. He coughed humorously, “Don’t worry about it.”

The redhead loathed being told that, because he was absolutely going to worry. Kyle slid his previously empty hand into Eric’s grasp before promising, “You can tell me anything, you know? About your mom and school and anything else that’s bothering you.”

“I didn’t realize that therapy was in the boyfriend job description.” Eric retorted.

Kyle narrowed his eyes in annoyance, “I’m just letting you know you can open up to me. You don’t have to keep up the whole asshole façade around me.”

The other boy let out a fake, hearty laugh. “It’s cute that you think it’s a façade.”

Obviously frustrated with Eric’s willingness, or lack thereof, to reveal his various dimensions, Kyle propped himself upright and placed his visual attention on the television show. The loss of contact disappointed Eric. He realized the reasoning behind it was that he was too stubborn for Kyle’s taste. After a few moments of awkward silence and a stare-session at Kyle’s lovely profile, he let out a deep breath and began to spill his guts, “Alright, my mom cares about me, I’m sure, but she’s always been really caught up in her work. And by work, I mean pimping herself out to random dudes and then being a secretary at a dentist’s office. Half of the money goes to alcohol, and the other half goes to anything I want. So, I guess she was too busy to really react when I asked her if being gay was okay and all that shit.”

Kyle was a bit caught off guard by Eric’s decision to share actual personal information. He knit his eyebrows together and digested the explanation his boyfriend had provided him. It was pretty fucked up. “Are you serious?”

“Yep,” Eric confirmed indignantly. “So, there, enjoy the origin story.”

“I don’t want to know things like that because I _enjoy_ it, don’t get like that. I just want to know you. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been on you.”

Suddenly, memories came flooding through Eric’s mind like an unpleasant flipbook of pain and confusion. He recalled times where he could not sleep due to his mother and up to three random strangers fornicating just down the hall. Those were hard nights, but nothing compared the couple of times when he came across plastic baggies filled with white powder, endless empty bottles of liquor littered across their home, or full weekends at a time where he did not even see his sole guardian. Returning to reality, he shrugged, “She fed me whatever I asked for and let me do whatever the fuck I wanted. I’d be an idiot to complain about that shit.”

“Material objects aren’t everything. Having a reliable guardian would have been a hell of a lot better for a fucking kid.” Kyle shook his head, appalled by the treatment his boyfriend underwent throughout his childhood. No wonder he was an untrusting asshole—he grew up with no boundaries and a perpetually disappointing mother.

Eric smirked endearingly at Kyle’s genuine unease. He gave the redhead’s fingers a gentle squeeze and promised, “It is what it is. I’m just glad they don’t serve powered-donut-pancake-surprise in college. I’ve already lost, like, ten pounds.”

Kyle cocked an eyebrow, “Powered-donut-pancake-surprise?”

Eric nodded, smiling dreamily. “It’s exactly what it sounds like, and it’s fucking delicious.”

“I think just smelling something like that would put me in diabetic shock.” Kyle replied, shaking his head at the imagery of the sugary concoction. “Am I ever going to get the pleasure of meeting Mama Cartman, or is that part of your life behind a closed door?”

“Nah, she’s still my mom no matter how many times she was on the cover of Crack Whore magazine. I guess you could if you really wanted to anytime. She’d probably try to fatten you up, though.” Eric warned, playfully poking his index finger against Kyle’s side.

Kyle laughed at the ticklish sensation that spread through his body, quickly forcing Eric’s hands away from his stomach. He sighed in relief, “Trust me, I’ve tried to do that myself, on top of endless attempts from my mother. My metabolism won’t allow it.”

“Good thing you’re hot as fuck the way you are.” Eric commented while encircling Kyle’s slim waist in his arms. Kyle shut his eyes to make room for the beam that shone across his face as soft lips trailed kisses against his neck. He rested his arms over Eric’s and pressed his fingers against his. Eric asked, “Am I ever going to get to offend your parents with my toilet humor?”

Kyle snorted, “Honestly, I don’t have much to lose. Contrary to their ‘progressive’ agenda, they’d only be totally happy if I was dating a Jewish girl I met at Stanford University.”

“Typical,” the brunette sighed, and then groaned at the elbow that collided with his belly. After a brief recovery moment, he clarified, “Ay, dude, that wasn’t even a knock on them being Jewish, parents are just homophobic! Why didn’t you get into Stanford, anyways? As annoying as it is, you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met.”

“Gee, thanks, babe.” Kyle shook his head at the pseudo-compliment. “It’s a long ass story.”

“I’ve got a long ass time.” Eric told him, tilting his head forward in order to make eye-contact.

The redhead sighed at the undivided attention from the boy behind him. He raised a hand and absently traced his finger against Eric’s arm as he told the story of the night he had been striving to forget since it occurred and demolished his life-long plans. “Well, after prom my friends convinced me to go to our last high school party. Fairplay’s right next to this super rich people’s neighborhood, too, so they were always ridiculous, huge parties. So, I, uh, had some drinks… The number is unclear… But, next thing I know, I wake up in the hospital with a broken arm and two friends in comas.”

“Oh, shit,” Eric spoke in genuine surprise, eyebrows rising. “Were they okay?”

Kyle nodded, “Yeah, eventually. Apparently, I was trying to drive my friends Jimmy—who is handicapped—and Pip to get more beer, which I couldn’t even do at eighteen, but I felt like it was a good idea in my stupor. Anyways, I guess I ran a red-light and we got slammed by some huge truck. Of course, it was prom night, so I got suspended, grounded, lost my spot as captain of the debate team, and my shot at being valedictorian.”

Eric frowned at the disconcerted expression resting on his boyfriend’s face. Ignoring the fact that it was kind of adorable, he rubbed Kyle’s long-sleeve clad arm soothingly and said, “That’s so bullshit, dude. I’m sorry.”

“It was a really stupid mistake. But, I’ve already applied for Stanford next year and my grades here are pretty flawless. I’m begging they’ll accept me.”

“Wait, you’re not going here next year?”

“I hope not,” Kyle scoffed, ignorant of his eagerness to leave MCC’s weight on his boyfriend. He peered up at Eric’s face to find a completely unamused and vaguely offended expression. Realizing what his statement must have sounded like, he was swift to amend, “Just because Stanford has been my plan since the fifth grade, y’know? Their law school is extremely prestigious.”

Eric nodded, understanding despite his discontent. “Damn, that’s a long ass time. I was just worried about my teacher finding out it was me that put brine shrimp in her coffee when I was in the fifth grade.”

Kyle gasped, “What?! Why would you do that?”

He laughed, pleased with his ability to shift the topic. The last thing Eric wanted in that moment was for it to be completely ruined by the thought of Kyle living in California for nine months of the year. “Because it was fucking hilarious! That bitch spit it out everywhere. The first row of kids even made it into the splash-zone.” Eric elaborated.

“Jesus Christ, Eric. I bet teachers _loved_ you.” Kyle puffed sarcastically.

“Duh. I’m adorable.”

“I can’t argue with that one.” Kyle returned with a smile. The boys leaned into one another and pressed their smiles together. Returning feelings of butterflies and completion fluttered throughout them as their lips dragged along one another’s in perfect sync.

Eric tried vigilantly to become completely submerged in the Kyle’s sweet kiss, but his mind would not stop reminding him that it would eventually become nothing more than a distant memory.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: talks and descriptions of dysphoria  
> -i based this off my own dysphoria, which isn't the same as a trans female goes through I'm sure so if anything is problematic i'd be happy to alter it just let me know!

It had been over a month since Butters had overheard Kenny profess to her aunts that he loved her. While those words were wonderful to hear come out of his mouth in general, he had yet to say them to _her_. She had been patiently waiting for him to drop the bomb on her with each conversation, but it never happened. At first she gave him the benefit of the doubt, perhaps he was too nervous or waiting for the perfect opportunity. That became exhausting after a while.

Butters paced her empty dorm-room, pouting as she awaited her boyfriend’s arrival. Truthfully, she did not fully desire to see him at the time. She was extremely frustrated with the situation, although he hadn’t actually done anything wrong.

All she desired was to finally be able to whisper in his ear just how much she truly loved and adored him. It felt unjustified to do such a thing if Kenny did not reveal those feelings first. Not because of the sexist stigma that it was a man’s duty to make all the first moves, but simply because he told Nelly and Kaylee. If he could do that, then why not to Butters herself?

Butters was drawn from her thoughts when she heard knuckles against her heavy wooden door. Despite her annoyance with the creator of the noise, her heart fluttered in her chest. She quickly scrutinized her appearance in the full-length mirror, scrunching her curled blonde hair. Satisfied with her appearance, she pulled the door open to reveal a cheekily smiling Kenny.

“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted sweetly before handing her a bouquet of yellow daisies, her favorite flower. “Happy Wednesday.”

Butters smiled widely at the lovely surprise, “Awe, Ken! I just had to throw out my old bouquet.”

“I noticed.” Kenny told her, stepping into the room and watching her gingerly place the vibrant plants in the glass vase that sat at the corner of her desk.

As she straightened the arrangement with careful fingers, an odd combination of emotions stirred within her. This was such a thoughtful surprise from such a perfect boy. While she was indubitably appreciative, the gesture perpetuated her exasperation. It would have been a fitting opportunity for her to leap into his arms and gush about how much she _loved_ him. Clenching her teeth, she grabbed her purse and said, “Thanks.”

Kenny watched with a quirked eyebrow as she purposefully bustled out of the dorm room and shut the door firmly behind her. As he shadowed her down the hall, her actions continued to insinuate some kind of anger or discomfort. He leaned down a bit to pose the question, “You okay, baby?”

 _Fuck you_ , Butters thought as she melted at one of Kenny’s many pet-names for her. Couldn’t he just be completely irritating and rude for once? She sighed, nodding her head, “Yeah, just a little tired, s’all.”

The boy hummed in understanding as he snaked her arm around her waist. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and asked her, “You wanna take a nap instead of lunch, then?”

“No, I’m hungry, too.”

“Fair enough.” Kenny nodded. As they continue to travel through the campus in pursuit of a place to eat, Butters was uncharacteristically silent. Normally she would go on and on about anything and everything that excited her as soon as she saw Kenny. Instead she just plodded along wordlessly, with a listless expression across her face. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Butters shot back a bit more emphatically than she originally meant. Guilt immediately washing over her for her abrasiveness, she turned to face Kenny with a pouted lip. “I’m sorry… I just, I’m good. I promise.”

“Are you mad at me?” He questioned a bit more nervously than the previous inquiry.

“No.” Butters reluctantly replied.

Frowning, Kenny shrugged his shoulders. “When you decide to stop lying to me, I’m here to listen.”

 _I can’t tell you, idiot_ , Butters thought to herself. She shook those thoughts away instantly as well. She sure was being mean to Kenny, but she just felt so mad.

By the time they had reached their desired location, they had a grand total of two half-assed conversations. Kenny was very concerned for his girlfriend’s well-being and the reason for her anger at him, but was hesitant to press on the issue. Whatever it was, she clearly didn’t want to discuss it—least of all with him.

“I like it when you do your eyeliner like that. It makes your pretty eyes pop.” Kenny commented after a bought of silence. Their pizza lunch was just as quiet as their walk to the parlor, and he felt incredibly uncomfortable—which is one thing he had never been with Butters before.

Butters glanced at her phone screen to remind herself that she had given herself winged eyeliner. She cursed the way his compliments made her cheeks go rosy and her lips form a smile. Butters sighed, “Thanks.”

“Yup.” Kenny nodded, popping the ‘p’. “I’m also really glad there’s absolutely _nothing_ wrong with you at _all_.”

“What the heck is that supposed to mean?” She snapped back, irritated. “I told you I’m just fine, Ken, why can’t you leave it?”

The blond boy sneered, casting his brown gaze elsewhere. “Whatever.”

Butters clenched her jaw, the sudden urge to kick Kenny right in the knee surging through her. “Don’t _whatever_ me! Maybe I just don’t wanna talk about it!”

Kenny wordlessly nodded in agreement, continuing to keep his eyes off his girlfriend. He occupied his vision by staring at the television displaying FOX News, despite how boring and stupid _The Five at Five_ could be. If Butters continued to make him mad like this, she half expected him to blow up on her as he did with Clyde and Bebe. While the thought was highly unpleasant, she frankly didn’t give a darn.

“You done eating?” Kenny asked in a disinterested tone, still refusing to glance back at the girl across from him.

Butters did not approve of his strike. She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “I’m done with you bein’ a butthole!”

With a long, deep sigh, Kenny said, “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” and stood to his feet.

“Oh, now you’re just gonna leave!” She growled.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Kenny shrugged on his jacket. His smirk was indignant and insincere—making Butters want to smack it off his face. “I just don’t really wanna sit here in silence while trying to guess what I did to piss you off.”

Butters’s (vaguely irrational) irritation only worsened. She pushed herself from her sitting position and glared daggers at him. “I ain’t pissed at you, okay?! I just… Y’know what, never mind. You obviously don’t take it seriously.”

With that, the girl stormed out of the pizza establishment and started back for her dorm. She supposed she could have been either less brash or more direct with Kenny, but it was too late then as her pride had already decided to walk away. She just couldn’t believe how ignorant he was, and she couldn’t understand why he didn’t tell her he loved her. Was it a lie? Was it just to impress her aunts? Did he _stop_ loving her?

“Leah, wait, baby,” Kenny’s voice pleaded from behind her. Butters took a few seconds debating on whether or not to stop and hear him out, but he had already caught up with her. He cupped her hand in his and gingerly pulled her towards him. When their eyes connected he spoke, “I’m sorry. I do take whatever is wrong very seriously. I just want you to be okay. And if it was anything my stupid ass did to make you upset, I wanna know so I can try and fix it.”

That same confusing combination of intense emotions fought over which Butters felt more within her. Staring up at Kenny’s sincere eyes and freckled cheeks, rosy from the cold and tense situation, caused the dam inside her to break. “I-I heard you at Aunt Nelly’s, Ken.”

Kenny pinched his eyebrows together, taking a small stride towards Butters. The chilly winter wind was blowing the direction he stepped, as if pushing him towards his girl. “You heard what?”

“I heard… I heard you tell them that you love me.” She admitted, letting her gaze fall. “And I ain’t sore about it or nothin’! I just… I dunno, I just don’t know why you haven’t told _me_ that yet. It’d be nice to hear…”

Kenny’s heart slammed harshly against his ribcage as his girlfriend finally revealed the source of her frustration. He felt incredibly stupid, having not told her, but he was unable to gauge a response until then. Kenny was utterly terrified that it was too soon, too much, and wrong for him to say such a thing for her. This was his first serious relationship and he desired to keep from screwing it up somehow.

Instead of verbalizing his true intentions behind waiting to confess his love for Butters, he reached her across the snowy pavement. He cupped her soft cheeks in his hands and pressed a desperate, passionate kiss to her lips—as if it were his last day to live. Completely unprepared for that response, a small gasp fell from the back of Butters’s throat. Nonetheless, she readily accepted the term of endearment and threw her arms around Kenny’s neck. Her eyebrows came together with her eyelids, squeezing shut and getting caught up in the raw emotion of the impromptu public display of affection.

Slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, Kenny withdrew from Butters’s soft lips. Their noses remained pressed together as their eyes opened to find one another. As soon as Kenny found his voice he hurriedly promised, “I love you. With all my fuckin’ heart.”

Butters could cry at how amazing it felt to finally be told that. All of her frustration and stress flew away with the billowing wind that chilled their bones. A large smile took over her face as she sighed in relief at his words, “I love you, too, Ken.” Kenny too was reassured when she flung her smaller body into his warm embrace. He held her tightly as she kissed his cheek and muttered, “I’m sorry for yelling at you and being mad at you, I was so mean. I love you so much.” 

The boy chuckled, unable to contain his own elated expression, “It’s okay, babe, I totally get it. I’ve clearly been wanting to get over myself and tell you for a while.”

Reeling back in order to gaze at his face and ignoring the judgmental eye or by-passers, Butters asked, “I’m real glad you did. I was starting to think you didn’t really mean it. That’s why I got all upset.”

Kenny shook his head at the ridiculous notion, “Of course I meant it. I just didn’t know how you felt, y’know? I didn’t wanna look dumb, or go too fast with you.”

Butters pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek before pulling away from him and taking his hand instead. As they started walking, she promised, “You definitely don’t look, darlin’. I’m so happy you told me, I just wanted to say it back so bad!”

Watching fondly as she giddily giggled and covered her cheek, Kenny scolded himself for waiting to say those magic words to her. He meant them with all this heart, and seeing how happy it made her was just another incredible bonus. She was a sweet, adorable girl and he prayed that he would spend a very long time staring at her as she grinned from ear to ear and blushed.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Kenny reminded her, holding her hand tightly with no intentions of letting go. “Is Henrietta gonna be in your dorm? ‘Cause I need to make out with you for at least an hour.”

Butters checked the time on her phone’s clock, humming, “I think that sounds like the best idea ever.”

Kenny managed to steal a few more kisses before they made it to her dorm room, where he immediately pressed her back against the door and his body to hers. Butters grabbed a fistful of Kenny’s wavy, sunshine hair as waves of pleasure danced throughout her. Eager tongues met one another in frenzy for more contact, Kenny’s large thumbs tracing circles against her hips.

It was so easy to get lost in the feeling that Kenny’s lips allowed. Butters gave it some thought from time to time and had come to the consensus that the poor boy’s lips and eyes were portals that allowed her to escape from reality. When all she had to focus on was the hint of strawberry ChapStick and tobacco invading her senses she could so simply float away to a distant galaxy where nothing mattered but that she loved Kenny, and he loved her back.

Unfortunately, that place was not planet Earth. A distraction brought Butters back down to the grim gravitational pull reality seemed to have. With the hormonal treatment she had begun to undergo with the aid of her aunts and support of her boyfriend, her ability for her masculine limitations to impede her day-to-day life had dramatically decreased—but it always seemed to find a way to reveal itself at the least convenient times.

“Fuck,” Butters cursed under her breathed, uncharacteristically so. She reached down and cupped a hand over her private parts; and any decent feeling that Kenny had given her instantly spiraled into deeply ashamed and dysphoric.

Breathing still erratic from the make-out session, Kenny’s eyelids peeled apart and followed her girlfriend as she paced past him. He frowned and shook his head, knowing definitely had to be askew if his innocent, little country girl dropped the ‘f’ bomb. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” was her only muffled reply. Butters gnawed on her lip and kept her back to Kenny, a shaky hand attempting to press down the part of her she could not wait to be rid of. It was humiliating to her—and even worse on such an emotional day. “Fuck, I hate myself.”

“Hey,” Kenny frowned, eyebrows knitting together. He trekked over to where she stood and gently touched her arm. “Don’t talk like that,”

“It’s true!” Butters shot back, voice cracking with the strain to initiate emphasis. Spinning around, she stared up at Kenny’s face with waterworks emitting from her eyes. She gestured to her crotch, “Because no matter how hard I try, this shit still happens!”

Kenny frowned, understanding the sudden outburst when considering the other few times this occurred while they were kissing (or more than kissing) and how much it upset her. He rubbed her arm comfortingly as she continued to rant, “I can’t even kiss my fucking boyfriend without this stupid dick popping up and reminding me that I ain’t a _real_ girl! I ain’t your _real_ girlfriend!”

The boy’s heart throbbed at the amount of pain and mortification written into her features and laced into her voice. Kenny lifted his hands to her face, cupping her cheek gingerly and swiping away falling tears with his thumbs. His voice was silk as he promised, “You are my real girlfriend, Leah. This transition that you’re going through isn’t always going to be easy. You’re going to have moments like this. But you know what?” he angled her chin towards his face in order to connect their eyes again. He continued with a small, reassuring grin, “I’m gonna be here for you, baby. I’m going to be right here to tell you that you are such a beautiful woman, and I’m so damn lucky I get to call mine.”

“Does _this_ feel like a fucking woman to you?” Butters shot back behind gritted teeth, forcibly removing one of Kenny’s hands from her face and pressing it to her body’s unfortunate reaction to arousal.

Slightly shocked at that reaction, Kenny’s eyes went wide. He darted his eyes down at his hand, then back up to his girlfriend’s flustered face. Kenny shrugged, “Yes! It’s _you_ ,”

Butters pushed away, turning and covering the mortification that colored her cheeks. Evidently words did not mean much to Butters at this juncture, so Kenny swiftly concocted a cheesy plan to cheer her up. He recalled once that she told him he had a ‘real pretty’ singing voice. The boy took a deep breath and willed himself not to start laughing as he approached his girlfriend and wound his arms around her waist from behind. As she began to protest, he pressed his lips to her ear and began softly reciting the words to a song in a melodic whisper, “ _Oh, her eyes her eyes make the starts look like they’re not shinin’… Her hair he hair falls perfectly without her tryin’_ ,” Kenny paused to gauge her reaction and softly trace his fingers through her light blonde hair. When he saw traces of a reluctant smile he continued to sing, “ _She’s so beautiful, and I tell her every day_.”

“Stop it, you big nerd…” Butters giggled softly. She turned her head away from the tall blond to hide the corners of her mouth turning upwards.

Humming to the tune, Kenny spun her around and encased her body in his arms yet again, this time with a face-to-face view. He gently swayed her body along with his as he continued to serenade her, “ _I know, I know, when I compliment her, she won’t believe me. It’s so, it’s so sad to think that she don’t see what I see…”_

“Stop.” Butters laughed again, pressing a finger to Kenny’s lips. However, the beam stretching his lips only made hers grow as well. “I’m serious.”

Still moving to the nonexistent beat, Kenny threw his head back and scream-sang, “ _When I see your face, there’s not a thing that I would change! ‘Cause girl you’re amazing—just the way you are!”_

“Kenneth McCormick!” She scolded with a loud giggle as she cupped her hand over Kenny’s mouth—which did not stop him from singing. “Now you’re being a _loud_ nerd!”

Although it was muffled, Butters could hear the boy continue to recite the words Bruno Mars had written and released so darn long ago. She didn’t want to listen, but the fact that someone thought of her as a beautiful woman despite having knowledge of the problem that had just occurred in her underwear made her heart warm again. With a sigh, she removed her hand from his mouth and replaced it on the side of his face, staring right at him with glossy blue eyes as he spoke the final stanza. “Girl, you’re amazing, just the way you are.”

“I love you.” Butters told Kenny in a tone that couldn’t decide if she was still upset or overwhelmed with joy.

“I love you,” Kenny pulled her into a tight bear-hug and pressed multiple kisses atop her head whilst inquiring, “Let me just ask you something, Leah, then we don’t have to talk about this anymore,” Reluctantly, Butters agreed, attention returning to Kenny’s still, handsome face. “Do you identify as a woman?”

“Well, yeah,” She confirmed.

Kenny grinned, “Then every part of your body is a woman’s body. Every part of you feels like a woman. If I got down on my knees and sucked you off, I would be having sex with the most beautiful woman in the world. I just want you to know that,”

Kenny’s words vaguely resembled words her gender therapist had told her about her body (aside from the offer of a sexual favor). Even though his singing was horrendously cliché, the additional words of wisdom warmed her heart and spirit. “Thank you, Ken. I just hate it so much. I thought now that I can finally present myself how I want, I’m takin’ my shots, it wouldn’t care as much, but it’s almost the opposite. It’s just like I’m so close, y’know? Well, heck, I’m glad it don’t bother you, but I still can’t wait to get my surgery…”

He smiled at her, “Me neither, baby, but until then, I love you… _just the way you are_ ,”

“Oh, hush,” she giggled into another passionate kiss.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclosure: i actually really love As You Like It and shakespeare i just also like to make allusions <3

Frustrated with his least favorite subject, Kyle snapped the paperback book shut and let his head fall forward onto the desk. It was his new assignment to read and annotate _As You Like It_ for his required English course, and while he generally understood everything, he could hardly comprehend the complex dialogue and language of the so-called comedy. After about an hour of attempting to decipher the five-hundred year-old story, he decided it would behoove his mental stability to visit his boyfriend.

Throwing on a beanie to conceal his unruly hair, he trekked out of his dorm and down the hall to find Eric’s. The hall was somewhat quiet in the late afternoon, as many peers had signed up for evening classes in order to avoid Kyle’s grueling, high-school like 7:00AM to 3:00PM class schedule almost every day. When he reached Eric and Kenny’s shared living space, he knocked on the door and waited for a reply.

It came soon after, in the form of Eric pacing to the door half-asleep and clad in a pair of grey sweatpants. “What’s up?

Kyle acknowledged Eric’s adorably groggy state, “Just wake up or something?”

“Took a nap,” he replied, side-stepping to allow his boyfriend entry.

Kyle bustled in and let a frustrated exhale fall from his lips, “So, I fucking hate my English class. I have to read this stupid play and it’s supposed to be hilarious and I do not understand it in the slightest.”

“Which one is it?” the brunette asked, leaning against his desk.

“ _As You Like It_ ,”

Eric pulled a confused expression, “Never heard of it. What is it?”

“Shakespeare,”

“Ugh, fuck Shakespeare.”

“Right!” Kyle grimaced, “It just sucks we have to take all of these classes that barely or don’t at all pertain to our major. I mean, I know I’m just here to get good enough grades to get into a better college, but there is no need for me to take a second English course. Like, I already wrote a fuck ton of fucking essays last semester! I’m so tired of MLA format, I feel like my head’s gonna explode.”

Chuckling, Eric turned and clicked the television on. “Stop overreacting, just read the translated version online.”

Eric’s behavior was beginning to frustrate Kyle. For the past couple of days, Eric had been avoidant and impatient of his boyfriend’s usual rants. He had accepted going into this relationship that he had an unusual sense of humor and could be moody, but it was usually not towards him anymore. Kyle knitted his eyebrows together, “Are you mad at me or something?”

“Nah, why?” Eric replied quickly, not even glancing at back at the suspicious redhead.

“You’re acting weird.”

“Sorry.”

Kyle pursed his lips and pushed himself from his mattress. Taking strides towards his boyfriend, he knew that he had somehow managed to upset. Kyle gently grazed Eric’s cheek with his fingertips and frowned, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Eric pulled his face away from Kyle’s touch and perked his head up at him. “Dude, nothing’s wrong. I’m just trying to watch TV.”

Feeling a combination of defensiveness and embarrassment, Kyle cast his gaze elsewhere and sighed. “Okay, sorry… I’m just going to go home and go to bed early. Good night, babe.”

“Night, Jewboy.” Eric spoke back listlessly as he squinted at the television and flipped through channels.

Kyle exited Eric’s dorm and headed back to his own. He couldn’t believe how he was being treated—he hadn’t seen him since the prior morning, he had just had a really hard day at school and an irritating homework experience, and there were no attempts at comfort or hints of sympathy. After trudging all the way down the hall to his own dorm, he entered and crawled into bed.

 _Maybe tomorrow won’t be_ total _shit_ , Kyle thought sardonically as he drifted off into a much needed slumber.

_

It was official—Kyle was losing his shit.

Two days of absolutely no sleep promptly following a week of three hours of rest per night combined with the over-consumption of expressos and Five-Hour Energy Shots rendered him a complete and utter mess. He had been cramming his brain with information ever since his calendar told him he had only a week until midterms. If he did not completely ace every single test, it would decrease his chances of being able to transfer to Stanford. He was worrying himself sick.

On top of this stress, Eric continued to behave completely out of the ordinary. He was distant and short with Kyle. When they hung out it was awkward and uncomfortable until one finally gave up and went to their respective dorm. They hadn’t done anything sexual in three weeks, and they hadn’t kissed in three days. Kyle felt like he was inching closer and closer toward insanity, and it was getting enormously tough for the young pre-law student to cope with. 

Thankfully, Kyle was not the only person who was conscious of Eric’s attitude change. Kenny approached his best friend about his bizarre behavior and received nothing but poor jokes and threats to ‘kick him square in the nuts’. The same friend reported to Kyle that night, bringing along his favorite meal from Subway.

When he heard a knock on the door, Kyle peeled his body from his desk chair and trudged to the door. Kenny strode inside after Kyle pulled the door open. He smirked at his friend, “Dude, don’t get me wrong—this whole disheveled, haven’t-slept-in-two-years look you’ve got going on is really sexy. But, uh, are you dying?”

Chuckling weakly, Kyle took the paper bag from Kenny’s outstretched hand, “Slowly but surely. Thanks for the food, man, you didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, I knew you weren’t gonna do it, and you probably haven’t had a decent meal since Hanukkah,” Kenny chuckled and sat at the edge of Kyle’s bed as he dug into his dinner. “Are you doing okay? Like, with everything that’s going on?”

Kyle sighed, “I guess, dude. I mean, I’m really stressed out about midterms and Eric being weird with me and Stan’s sort of depressed and my mom got a Snapchat. There’s just a lot going on.”

Kenny nodded in understanding, “Yeah, I talked to him and he was just as weird with me. I think he’s just stressed out about school, too. He always shuts down when he’s upset—even if it’s something little.”

Substantial food hadn’t tasted so good to Kyle in a very long time. After a large bite of his sub, he replied, “It’s been weeks, dude. I feel like I did something wrong, or he regrets this relationship or something. I wish I could put all my focus on it, but I have to go to class and study.”

“There’s no way he regrets dating you, Ky, he’s crazy about you.” Kenny assured him with a serious expression. He was about as invested into their relationship as Eric and Kyle were—or, as he called them, _‘Kyman’_.

Kyle laughed sarcastically, “Yeah, he’s so head over heels in love with me that he barely looks at me when I’m near him and hasn’t come anywhere near my dick in, like, a month.”

“A month?” Kenny winced. “Jesus Christ, dude, do you want me to fuckin’ help you with that?”

The redhead rolled his eyes, smirking at his friend’s presumptuous joke, “I’ll manage, Ken.”

“Offer’s always on the table. Leah said it was cool,” Kenny winked before returning to the stern ambiance. “Why don’t you just talk to him?”

Kyle shrugged and scratched at his bare arms, “I don’t know, I’ve never had to have that kind of conversation before. Let alone with _Eric_.”

“Right,” Kenny puffed out a scoff. “But still—he’s your boyfriend. And he’s changed a lot since meeting you. He used to be a lot bigger of an asshole. Now he’s like a, uh, moderate asshole. Medium-sized dick.”

The boys cringed in unison at Kenny’s word-choice. With a chuckle, Kyle peered down at the carpet and attempted to picture himself talking to Eric about the issue at hand, “Man, I guess I can try after midterms are over.”

Kenny pulled his lips into a line, “I dunno, I think you should do it before. Then you won’t have anything else on your mind and you can focus. I mean, I dunno much about actual degree hunting is, but they seem a lot harder than my final exam of hooking up a simulated breaker box.” 

“Not harder, just different. Trust me; I couldn’t do what you guys do in that program.” Kyle assured him. “But, I don’t know, dude, I’m not up to it tonight. Maybe we can work something out tomorrow night… I don’t know.”

Kenny slowly pushed himself to his feet and let out a long breath, “Well, man, whatever you decide, I’m totally here for ya. And I’ll kick your ass if you don’t revise your fuckin’ diet.”

“Yes, Mama Kenny,” Kyle agreed with an eye roll.

Kenny smirked and reached his hand out to clutch Kyle’s. “Alright, dude, I’m gonna go check on my girl. She’s freaking out almost as hard as you are, so I gotta make sure she eats something other than ramen noodles, too. You need anything, call me, alright?”

“Got it. Thanks, dude.” Kyle smiled.

“Take it easy, Ky.” Kenny returned the grin, and then let himself out of the room, leaving Kyle to his over-lapping thoughts and his Subway dinner. 

_

Even with Kyle’s nearly over-preparation for the midterms, he still came out of his first test completely wiped out and filled with anxiety as to how he did. There were no surprises as far as the writing prompt went, but whenever he was _timed_ , he felt extreme pressure. All he wanted to do afterwards was curl up and die for a little while.

On his way back to his dorm, Kyle breezed through the recreational area in the center of the campus in pursuit of a smoothie. He owed it to himself to consume a beverage that was not composed of sugar and caffeine.

As he was waiting for his frozen fruit drink, something caught Kyle’s eye and made his blood boil. Across the room, sat on a couch beside one of their classmates, was his boyfriend. Eric was cracking up laughing with another boy as they leaned into one another to watch something on his iPad. Kyle’s bitch-face was activated by the sight—it had been weeks since Eric had been that happy to be around Kyle, and it was some random student from their Intro to Basic Constitutional Law course.

Gripping his smoothie probably a little too firmly, Kyle strutted over to Eric with death in his eyes. While Kyle was stressing and fretting endlessly about their relationship and if he had done something to doom them, Eric decided to hang out with other attractive boys and while ignoring his boyfriend.

“Hello, Eric.” Kyle greeted through gritted teeth.

A pair of vaguely panicked brown eyes peered up to find Kyle’s angry expression judging him. He deflated immediately and put on a grin, “Oh, hey, _Kahl_.”

 _Kahl_. The simple mispronunciation of his name made his stomach clench unpleasantly. Eric only said his name like that is he wanted to get on his nerves, or when he was purposefully acting childish. Kyle glanced between his boyfriend and their somewhat uncomfortable classmate beside him. He shook his head and swallowed hard, “Look, I don’t know what the hell I ever did wrong to you, but I’m sick of whatever the fuck this relationship’s become. So, congratulations, asshole. You’re free.”

With that being said and a heavy heart, Kyle spun on his heels and stormed away. He could barely wrap his head around the severity of his spur of the moment decision to end things with his boyfriend, but the thing that hurt even more than the fact that it was over was that Eric didn’t even protest. He didn’t ask why or try to remedy the situation or chase after him; it was just over.

Kyle all but sprinted to his dorm and slammed the door shut. He threw his half-empty smoothie into the garbage and pressed his back against the door. Sucking in air through his nose, he stared up at the ceiling and forced himself not to shed a single tear.

What he had expected to come from this relationship was beyond him; was he going to change Eric and make him a better person or something? Were they going to live happily ever after in some kind of perfect relationship despite their differences and quirks and problems? He felt like an idiot to expect any outcome of the like instead of the cruel, impersonal ending he received. 

All he wanted to do was punch a wall, cry, call Stan and bitch for hours about how everything sucks, eat an entire chocolate cake, and then go into diabetic shock and die. Instead, he crossed the room while kicking off his shoes and he flopped onto his mattress. He buried his head in his pillow and just sat their silently.

Kyle had never quite understood the term ‘heartbroken’, but he supposed that this was it. He felt as if his chest was on fire—like someone had opened up his ribcage and squeezed his heart until he had almost stopped breathing, but just enough to make him wish it would end. Despite how shitty Eric made him feel, he still desired nothing more than to be in his arms and to kiss his lips. He couldn’t come to terms with the end of their relationship—he didn’t want it to be over.

“Who is it?” Kyle feebly questioned when a knock interrupted his wallowing.

“Kyle? It’s me.” Eric’s voice sounded from the other side.

An unpleasant knot formed in Kyle’s tummy. He considered yelling at him to go away and to never speak to him again. It would have made it a lot easier on him; however, as always, he took the harder route and pushed himself off the bed.

Kyle hesitantly made his way to the door and slowly pulled it open. He made a point to keep his eyes focused on the carpeted floor as he addressed Eric, “What?”

“Uh, hey…” Eric began awkwardly. “I-I need to talk to you. “

“Listen, I really don’t wanna hear this. Just leave things how they are and it’s—it’s whatever, okay?” Kyle huffed, gripping the door knob and preparing himself to shut the door.

Eric pressed his palm against the wood and took a stride towards Kyle. He was experiencing the same feelings that Kyle had suffered. He swallowed his pride and forced himself to make amends. “Ky, please—I don’t want this. I don’t want to lose you.”

Surprised by this confession, Kyle peered up at his face. When met and those crazy emotions that felt so right and so stupid simultaneously amplified by a thousand. Eric swallowed the lump in his throat before stepping into the dorm and closing the door behind him. “Please don’t do this, okay? Just give me another chance, please? I’m sorry.”

Kyle processed his words and shook his head from side to side, “I just—I don’t understand, Eric. Out of nowhere you just started treating me like I’m invisible! I mean, if I did something to piss you off, you could have fucking told me instead of making me feel like absolute shit!”

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to.” Eric assured the increasingly upset Kyle.

Kyle tossed his hands up in the air, exasperated, “Well, what?! What did I do? Why are you pushing me away?”

Although Eric was the one that initiated this interaction, he didn’t exactly give much thought to what he would say. Although he knew exactly what fueled his cold treatment towards Kyle, he found it impossible to express his thoughts. “I-I don’t know, dude. I just… I’m just stressed out about homework and shit.”

“Oh, no,” Kyle laughed indignantly and placed his hands on his hips. “That may work on Kenny, but that’s not fucking good enough for me. Why are you being so distant? Do you not want to be with me anymore or something? Is it someone else?”

“No, goddamn it!” Eric shot back, frustration growing inside of him.

“Then what the fuck, Eric!”

“I don’t want to miss you!” He revealed. His cheeks, ears and neck began to feel hot as well as his chest.

Confused, Kyle shook his head, “What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“You’re going to go to dumbass Stanford next year or in two years, which is all the way in California and I’m going to be stuck here in this snowy piece of shit of a college and I won’t get to wake up every day and look forward to seeing you! You’re not going to knock on my dorm after classes and come in and complain about how incompetent your professors are, and I’m not going to get to get you all worked up about politics and shit, I’m not going to get to watch you crack up laughing at something stupid I say!” Eric’s breathing was heavy as he stared right into Kyle’s glossy eyes. He continued in a softer tone, “I’m not going to get to stare into your stupid, fucking perfect eyes like some gay ass romance film, and I’m not going to get to make out with you in front of Clyde to piss him off, and I’m not going to be able to hold your hand or kiss your cheek or hear your voice or stare at you. I’m not going to get to be your boyfriend anymore, Kyle, and I… I don’t know if I can do that without becoming a total fucking disaster again. So, if I push you away and you hate me, it’ll make it easier for me to get over you. And even so, I don’t know if I _can_ get over you…”

The redhead’s expression had softened as he took small steps towards the other boy. He raised a hand and cupped Eric’s cheek, gently rubbing his soft skin with his thumb. Eric placed his hand over Kyle’s and gaped deeply into those knowing, kind brown eyes. His heart thumped hard against his chest as he confessed in a whispered, “I love you.”

That simple, overused, overrated phrase echoed in Kyle’s mind and drove his insides insane. He never imagined hearing those three little words would ever mean so much to him—but there Eric was, standing in front of him and taking that step. Kyle knew that Eric didn’t even tell his own mother that he loved her unless he wanted something. His lips stretched into a wide smile before he replied quickly, “God, I love you, too,”

Kyle circled his arms around Eric’s neck and firmly pressed their mouths together. Eric creased his eyebrows together and kissed Kyle with everything he had—every ounce of raw emotion and new feeling that only Kyle drew out of him. He held his waist tightly, as if he would wither away in the wind. Although saying those words and being this serious and vulnerable with someone was horrifying to Eric, there was absolutely no place he’d rather be. Forgetting about their fate in the future, he focused all his attention of Kyle then—his adorable, perpetually angry boyfriend clad in an dorky sweater with dark circles beneath his eyes from obsessive studying. He was perfection.

“I’m so sorry, Kyle,” Eric promised when they came up for air. “I was such a tool.”

Kyle shook his head as he fed his fingers through his soft brown hair. “You were, but it’s okay. Just—just don’t do that, okay? I’m gonna go to a better college, and maybe things won’t be the same, but it’s me and you. We’re fucking awesome. If any couple can make it, it’s us. So please don’t worry. Just be with me.”

Eric let out a long breath, “You make a compelling argument.”

“I _am_ going to be a lawyer.” He shrugged with a smile.

“And I am going to need a lawyer when I fuck over other businesses.”

Kyle grinned as the shorter boy traced circles against his hips with his thumbs, “So, we’re kinda perfect for each other?”

“Opposites attract.”

“That’s so fucking cheesy, oh my god, take it back.” Kyle groaned, turning his head to dodge a kiss.

Eric exclaimed, peppering kissing to Kyle’s neck and jawline. “I love you _so_ much, baby. You’re _so_ beautiful, you _sweet_ piece of ass.”

“It would be so easy for me to knee you in the dick right now.” Kyle threatened with an untamable grin. “Like, I’m seriously tempted.”

“As long as you kiss it better.” Eric propositioned with a smirk.

Kyle hummed, “Not worth it.”

“Wow, thanks, babe—“

Kyle grabbed Eric’s cheeks and pulled him into a hard, long kiss on the lips. Words couldn’t describe how thrilled he was that things were okay. He never wanted to feel the way he did when he thought he had lost Eric ever again, and for the time being, he didn’t have to. All that mattered to the two of them was how fast they could get their stupid clothes off.


	24. Chapter 24

“I can’t believe this is it, dude.” Clyde sighed, gaze far-off as he stared at the empty dorm room. Unfortunately for his laziness, Kyle made a three-day packing schedule for the two of them and was very adamant about following it (although, Kyle ended up doing a majority of Clyde’s packing as well). Then, they stood on moving day, with all of Clyde’s things neatly put away in various bags and boxes while Kyle’s car was filled with his and Eric's things.

Kyle side-glanced at him, “You’re going to miss me, aren’t you?”

“Like a child misses their blanket.” Clyde retorted, sniffling for effect.

Chuckling, Kyle wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pinched his cheek. “Alright, let’s go over what I taught you. How—“

“No—“

“ _How_ do you fold t-shirts in order to reduce wrinkles?” Kyle demanded emphatically.

Releasing a long sigh, Clyde mimicked the piece of advice in a bored tone. “Fold the sleeves in first and the carefully tuck it in half.”

“Kyle, are you torturing this poor kid with room maintenance techniques again?” Kenny accused as he paced up behind them, an unlit cigarette between his lips. 

“Yes!” Clyde exclaimed, ducking into Kenny like a cowering puppy.

The redhead rolled his eyes, smirking, “I’m just trying to be nostalgic.”

Kenny chuckled, “Well if you wanna do that, just fuckin’ scream at him for leaving his empty Monster cans on the ground.”

“I only yelled at him that one time!” Kyle defended. The three stepped out of the empty room, pulling the door closed with them. Since the beginning of his transitional college journey, he thought he would be thrilled to be half-way through; however, he was singing a different song when he watched the door to his and his good friend’s dorm close and click locked for the last time. Kyle knew that he would miss living with the incessant filth and obnoxiously loud video games that came along with the caring and loyal Clyde.

“Your favorite asshole is with Leah and Bebe,” Kenny informed Kyle as they exited Adams Hall. “For some reason he actually agreed to help them move shit.”

Clyde scoffed, “Well, that’s super out of character.”

“Hey, he’s a nice person!” Kyle defended his boyfriend. His conviction weakened when he saw the disbelieving looks of his friends. He slouched, “Occasionally,”

“Occasionally, and that’s just ‘cause of you,” Kenny pointed out, clapping a hand against Kyle’s shoulder, exhaling a line of white smoke behind them. “You better keep visiting him, alright? I don’t wanna deal with him while he’s going through Kyle-withdraws. That’d be a fuckin’ nightmare.”

“I hear that.” Clyde snorted.

Kyle relished the concept of his boyfriend becoming a slightly more tolerable person with his aide. He would never verbally admit it, on the grounds of he didn’t want to seem arrogant, but even he noticed that there was a bit of a skip Eric's step since they got together. He wasn’t as short with everyone or as quick to be rude, and generally happier. It made Kyle feel significant and blissful he could do the same for the boy he loved.

“Oh, look who finally decided to high-tail his chiseled jawline over here!” An extremely frustrated Eric exclaimed behind heavy breathing as Kenny, Kyle, and Clyde approached himself and the girls. He wheezed, “If being pretty _always_ gets you out of the heavy lifting, than I’m getting a face-change.”

“That sounds more like that Cartman I know and can’t stand.” Clyde declared with faux cheerfulness.

Eric sneered at Clyde as his boyfriend approached him. Kyle pecked his cheek and said, “You don’t need a face-change to look pretty.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Kenny shrugged, sending Eric a cheeky wink.

Bebe rolled her eyes, “Captain _I-Don’t-Need-Help-From-You-Chicks_ has been trying to lug my chair to Craig’s new car for the last half-hour.”

“Aye, I got it out here, didn’t I?” Eric snapped, nonchalantly doubling over and sucking in as much air as possible to compensate for his efforts.

“Kenny carried it up two flights of stairs by himself when we got here!” Bebe snorted.

“And, he’ll begrudgingly do it again.” Kenny announced, tugging off his sweatshirt and handing it to his girlfriend, whose eyes widened at the exposure of his slightly muscular arms in his loose-fitting under-shirt. He bent his knees and lifted the bulky, decorative sofa chair by the sides. He grunted, “Jesus Christ, I forgot how heavy it was. B, you got body parts hidden in here?!”

The blonde girl shrugged, “Fella done me wrong.”

Clyde smirked and put an arm around his girlfriend’s waist, “Baby, I thought we talked about this. Murdering is _illegal_.”

“So is that tank-top.” Butters announced, eyeing her boyfriend’s bulging veins.

Eric groaned, “I’m triggered.”

Kenny peered over at his best friend as the group followed him towards the parking lot, “Oh, I’m sorry, do you wanna help me with this fuckin’ thing?”

Eric shook his head from side to side, “Nope, keep going, muscles. It is kind of ugly, though, Bebe. I thought you had an eye for design.”

The group hissed, but Bebe was already jumping to her own defense, “Hey, that was a graduation present from my parents! It’s from Pottery Barn!”

“It’s also cost four-hundred dollars.” Butters exposed with a giggle.

Kenny’s eyes peeled wide open. “How rich is your daddy?”

“Rich enough for me to hire someone to kill you all for making fun of me,” Bebe retorted, crossing her arms. “Be careful; all I have to do is stick my foot out.”

Kenny swallowed, “Yes, ma’am.”

When the six finally made it to Craig’s car, Kenny groaned hurriedly at their friend that was leaning against the trunk, “Open the car, open the car,”

Craig peered up from his iPhone’s screen and cocked at eyebrow at Kenny, who looked as though he was about to keel over and die as he struggled to keep Bebe’s furniture in his arms. Kyle had briefly attempted to aid him, but the chair was too awkward for it to be done efficiently. “I’m having flash-backs of when we moved in and I’m enjoying it.”

“Yeah, yeah, open the damn car before I throw it at you!” Kenny demanded in a low, strained voice.

The owner of the vehicle snorted and pressed the remote lock on his keys, “Mellow out, Mysterion.”

Kenny let out a deep sigh of relief after the weight was transferred to the back of Craig’s car. He breathed dramatically and leaned against the side of the SUV, glanced between all of his amused friends. He rolled his eyes, “Thanks for absolutely no help at all, you guys. Besides, as usual, Kyle,”

“I knew you could do it, point break.” Eric told him with a sarcastic grin, patting his cheek.

Craig spoke, “Cartman, are you riding back with me or Kyle?”

“Eric and Kenny are coming with me,” Kyle announced with a nod. “That way you don’t have to make two trips or play Tetris with your stuff again.”

“Great. I get to be alone with the hetreos.” Craig droned.

Clyde grinned and nudged his friend with an elbow. “Hey, at least we’re already got most of Bebe's stuff home yesterday. And we’ll only make out every five minutes, I promise.”

Craig groaned, “Looks like I’m getting in a car-wreck,” he flicked his eyes to Kyle, Kenny, and Eric, nodding. “See you all in therapy.”

As the driver climbed into the vehicle, Bebe and Clyde began the hug-tour. Bebe grinned sadly at Butters and opened her arms wide, “C’mere, beautiful.”

The shorter girl trotted over and wrapped her arms tightly around Bebe’s neck, breathing in the smell of her delightfully pungent vanilla perfume. Bebe combed her fingers through her hair, “I know we’ll hang out over the summer, but I’m going to miss not seeing you every day. Take good care of yourself, okay? And as soon as your boyfriend acts up, you let me know and I’ll beat him.”

Giggling, Butters nodded her head and withdrew from the hug, “We’ll take turns.”

“You know I’m into that, baby,” Kenny informed with a sly smile, enduring a punch from Bebe before she granted him a hug.

Clyde met eyes with Kyle and pointed a thumb towards Bebe, “What my girlfriend said to her girlfriend. I’m gonna miss living with you, man.”

Kyle grinned and accepted the hug Clyde gave him. He returned, “I’ll miss living with you, too. I know I like things a bit cleaner than your style, but I couldn’t have asked for a better roommate.”

“God, get a room.” Eric snorted at their declarations.

As Clyde pulled away he narrowed his eyes at Eric, “Aww, don’t be jealous, Cartman,”

“Dude, I live down the street from you,” Eric groaned, pushing Clyde away as he stepped into his personal bubble and attempted to wrap his arms around him. “Hop off that gay shit.”

“Come here!” Clyde exclaimed, wrestling for an embrace.

“I don’t do this, don’t touch me!” The larger boy groaned, stiffing his arms to keep Clyde at bay.

“Don’t be a douchebag,” Kyle warned with a glare.

“Jesus Christ,” Eric huffed. Quickly, and refusing to look at him, he leaned down and gave Clyde a half-assed hug before pushing him away and crossing his arms over my chest. “Merry fucking Christmas.”

“Love you, too, bud.” Clyde laughed.

After a few more good-byes were exchanged, Kenny, Kyle, Butters, and Eric were left in the parking lot waving to Craig’s moving vehicle. Kenny frowned as he curled his arm around Butters’s waist, “Our first year of college is really over.”

“Yeah, and you got one more to go,” Eric pointed out disdainfully. “Fucking trade workers.”

Chuckling, Kenny flicked his head towards the campus. “C’mon, we gotta be out of here in an hour.”

All in agreement, the two couples began ambling back to Adams Hall in order to retrieve Kenny’s remaining luggage—which was allegedly only a duffel bag, a couple of binders, and half a carton of cigarettes. Kyle refused to believe that he brought only clothes to college, but was proven wrong when he exited their room with a single army-green bag slung over his shoulder.

“Huh,” Kyle nodded. “I’m impressed.”

Kenny smirked. “You tend to pack light when you don’t have much.”

“Boo-hoo,” Eric retorted. “Let’s turn in our keys and get the Hell out of here before that bitchy security lady starts yelling at us.”

“Agreed,” Butters sighed. “She really don’t like it when girls are in the boys dorm.”

“She’s just jealous someone who’s thirty years younger than her got a man before she did.” Kenny assured her.

The four friends retreated from the dorm, handing over their sets of keys to the workers whom had set up a table in the common room. On the journey to Kyle’s car, the redhead was pleasantly surprised by a chaste kiss being pressed against his cheek by Eric, who then whispered to him, “I’m going to miss living down the hall from you.”

Kyle smiled widely, flicking his eyes to Eric’s sincere expression. “Hop off that gay shit.”

“Saw that coming from a mile away,” The brunette sighed, but let himself grin when Kyle planted a kiss on his lips in return.

Although Butters planned on coming down to visit South Park the following day, Eric and Kyle were annoyed to wait ten minutes for Kenny to say good-bye to her at her car. When the blond came sauntering back to Kyle's vehicle he noted his disheveled hair, "Did I just have to sit here and wait for you to have sex with your girlfriend?" 

Kenny barked a laugh, "If your guys's sex is that short, I feel very bad for you."

The three of them piled into Kyle’s car, South Park bound. It was their last hour together, and while they were a bit saddened by the ending of this chapter, they were excited for what the summer had in store for their new relationships. Kyle turned to his friends before starting the ignition, “Before we go, are you two a million percent positive you didn’t leave anything in the dorms, or that you do not need to use the restroom?”

“Yes, mommy,” Kenny promised in a purposefully childish tone.

“Are you _sure_? It’s almost an hour—“

“Pedal to the medal, babe.” Eric interrupted shortly, chuckling despite himself.

“I ask because I care,” Kyle assured them and began maneuvering out of the parking lot.

Kenny stared fixedly out the window. A small smile crept across his lips as he watched the collection of dorms and buildings become more distant. “Y’know, I thought I was gonna hate this place, 'cause school is the worst. I can't believe I ended up loving it and meeting my future wife."

Eric snorted, "You really think you're gonna marry Butters?"

"I know I'm gonna marry Butters," Kenny returned assuredly.

Kyle smiled, “I’m with you, Kenny. Well, not about marrying Butters, but thinking I was gonna hate it here. I was supposed to go to Stanford, and I had this big plan and I was really depressed about it all going to shit. I did _not_ want to be here. But now, I’m actually glad that everything happened the way it did. What’s the fun in life if it follows some strict plan?” he glanced over at Eric, whose attention was on him with shades to block out the sun. He was wearing that same _Star Wars_ t-shirt as the night of the party where he was hopelessly intoxicated and Eric helped him survive. Eric’s brunette bangs fell low across his forehead, and Kyle imagined all the times he swept from away from his face and pressed kisses to those soft lips. His heart was full of love, “I couldn’t be happier with the way things turned out.”

Eric was never one to be sentimental in public—and still not so much with only Kyle—but then his heart was throbbing and his lips would not stop curling upwards into a stupid simper. He replied, “I really don’t think I could, either.”

“Hah _gay_!” Kenny called from the back seat, making Kyle roll his eyes and Eric turn around to swat at him.

“Yes, thank you for stating the obvious once more, Kenny.” Kyle shot back.

Kyle bit at the inside of his cheek as he obeyed the stop-sign at the entrance of the university. To his left was the decorative concrete wall with the bold words reading _Millville Community College_. The last time he took a good, long look at the sign, he was alone and dreading what was in store for him and fantasizing that it spelled out _Stanford University_ instead. After completing a full year with excellent grades (and, according to the dean, some of the highest he had ever seen), and with his boyfriend and best friend filling the seats beside him, he was only dreading leaving the place where his life had truly changed.

**_Seven years later…_ **

****

“Damn it!” Kyle cursed under his breath as a drip of his latte traveled down the pocket of his freshly pressed dress shirt. Quickly, he tore a napkin from the dispenser before him and hastily dabbed at what he was certain would become a new stain. This very incident reminded him why he rarely took the time out of his hectic days to indulge in a morning Starbucks run.

The option of running back to his apartment and changing had crossed his mind, but he was to be at work in less than an hour. He knew the chances of him making it on time were good, but he had never been late in his life; he was not about to start then; especially not when he was so close to a huge opportunity to officially perpetuate his career.

Just as he turned to leave, a shocking sight caused all the breath in his lungs to escape him. Wide brown eyes landed on a familiar smirk, belonging to a man that stood before him in a crisply ironed suit and a professional haircut. “Kyle?” the man addressed, pronouncing both syllables as if they were their own words.

“Holy shit,” Kyle replied in disbelief. “Eric Cartman.”

Eric slid his hands into his deep pockets and sized up his ex-boyfriend. Kyle’s was a face he had not seen in five years—since they had an enormously damaging falling out the day before Kyle left to finish his bachelor’s degree and then attend law school at the University of California, Berkley. They conversed minimally after that, and eventually ceased contact altogether with no particularly clear closure. Although his life was moving swiftly and he was constantly preoccupied with the pursuit of his career, Eric would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about Kyle from time to time. Seeing him in person in a slimming suit and a surprised expression on his more mature, but still gorgeous face gave him a swell of joy. “You look great.”

“Same goes,” The redhead told him with a smile, words coming easier when the shock of seeing him dissipated. Truthfully, he had never truly gotten over Eric, but burying himself in college world, then law school, and now an internship at a major attorney practice was enough to distract his mind. Long-forgotten feelings began to fester inside of him as his mind went a hundred miles an hour. “How—Wh-What are you doing? I mean, how’s life?”

With a sly smile, Eric raised his coffee cup, “Currently, I’m getting coffee. Life is decent. And later, I’m going to have lunch with you.”

Kyle’s eyes were wide again, “Oh, um, I don’t really get that long of a lunch break…”

Eric lifted a suspicious eyebrow, “Dinner then?”

One thing certainly hadn’t changed about Eric after all these eyes, he was somewhat presumptuous. If anything, he seemed even more-so then. Kyle drank in a heavy breath and turned the situation over in his mind, quickly attempting to analyze the pros and cons. Instead of listening to his better judgement, he nodded, “Dinner would be great. Where and when should I meet you?”

“Angelina’s? Seven o’clock?” Eric suggested, attempting to push down his conflicting anxious and excited feelings.

Kyle nodded in confirmation, “Sounds great.”

“Sweet,” Eric shot him a sweet smile. “I’ll see you then, Jewboy.”

Kyle briefly watched Eric retreat, shaking his head from side to side. As he leaned down and lifted his over-the-shoulder briefcase, he couldn’t help but grin to himself at the thought of his whirlwind plans for that night. He was certainly not going to have an overly productive day.

_

“Cartman?” Stan repeated with distaste in his voice. “You’re going out with your asshole ex-boyfriend that I thought was out of our life for good?”

“Yes, I am,” Kyle groaned, bustling around his room for a decent outfit. “And I would appreciate a sliver of support.”

“You have my full support, as always. I just really don’t understand what you _still_ see in him.” The other man retorted, scratching at his bearded chin and leaning against the doorway.

Kyle laid a button-down shirt flat on his comforter, lined up with his khaki pants. He considered the combination before sighing and discarding the trousers. He flicked his gaze up to Stan, “It’s not a date or anything like that—we’re just catching up. This is probably the last I’ll hear from him for another five years. But, I’m curious about how everyone’s life turned out, you know? I haven’t exactly kept in touch.”

“You still talk to that one girl with a weird name, don’t you?” Stan pointed out as he ambled to Kyle’s dresser and began helping him search.

“Butters?” Kyle tried, and Stan nodded. “I mean—we’d text occasionally, but we haven’t in a while. All I know is her and Kenny got married last year and I couldn’t go to the wedding.” 

“Wear your jeans and Toms. But, I’m all for you reconvening with your past and whatever, I just don’t want this to go south. He really fucked you up, man…”

Kyle smiled sadly as he placed the pants that Stan suggested beneath his shirt and smoothed out the creases with his hand. “That was a long time ago, Stanley. I think I can handle it. By the way, where’s Cassie?”

“She’s at her dance class until six.” Stan told him, answering the question regarding his daughter with a fond smile.

Kyle grinned as he pulled out a pair of shoes, “When’s her next recital? I think that was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Next month. And I know, I love seeing that confused smile on her face.” The dark haired man replied. After graduating as an accountant from UCLA and unsurprisingly not being drafted into the NFL, Stan returned to his hometown of Fairplay and settled down. For three years then he was married, and for almost as long, he had been a father to a sweet little girl. He and his wife, Rebecca, named her Cassidy, and were excited to soon welcome their second child. Their family resided quite close to Kyle, an absolute constant in his life despite the rollercoaster college had been.

“Me too. The poor kid has no idea what’s going on,” Kyle told his friend with a laugh as he changed into the designated outfit. He had asked Stan to stop by after work in order to gush about the news and freak out in person and was extremely grateful for his anchor to sanity.

“You’re gonna be fine, you know,” Stan pointed out with a smirk at Kyle reconsidering the shirt in the mirror. “Just be your charming, genius self.”

Kyle sighed, “I don’t know why I’m so nervous, I guess I just don’t know what to expect from this. I mean, he seemed cool, but I’m sure isn’t exactly a fan of mine. Hell, I’m not fully enthralled with him after what he said to me.”

Stan nodded, understanding the position Kyle was in, “Well, if nothing else, you’ll get some closure.” Truly, Stan was happy for Kyle—he had not gone on a date in years, and he hadn’t gone out with friends in months. Whether or not it was some boyfriend he had a falling out with years ago, it was indubitably nice to see him concerned for something other than memorizing court cases and laws. 

“Thanks for helping me, Stan,” Kyle sighed. “I guess I look decent enough.”

“Have a good time, man. I’m gonna go pick up Cassie,” Stan announced, patting his friend on the back and heading towards the exit. “Use protection, okay?”

Kyle puffed an exasperated huff as Stan left. He took another look at himself in the answer and smiled a little at the fact that he would soon be seeing Eric again. Despite the allotted time apart from the man and the rough ending to their relationship, he was looking forward to spending time with and catching up with him. He had a lot of regrets over the years, and a lot of them revolved around not keeping in touch with that group of friends that meant so much to him in his freshmen and sophomore year of college. If nothing else, perhaps this was his chance to achieve closure as Stan had suggested.

_

From surprisingly vivid memories that Kyle could draw from the back of his mind of Eric Cartman, one thing he never was around him was nervous. He had been furious, enthralled, despondent, at peace, and even more furious due to his words or the way he was, but he had scarcely felt genuinely anxious about being around him until that night. The drive there consisted of Kyle drumming on the steering wheel and adjusting the cuffs of his button-down repeatedly. Facing something he had been trying to forget for years, including his biggest regrets, did not settle well in his stomach.

There was no turning back when he pulled into the parking lot of the pseudo fancy Italian restaurant that he agreed to meet Eric at, however. He sucked in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for being invaded with those old emotions again. After a few moments of stalling and one last glance in his rear-view mirror to make sure his appearance wasn’t completely unacceptable, he decided he was ready to exit the vehicle.

Trotting up to the decently sized restaurant’s entrance, Kyle eyed the darkening sky. The weather was returning to its usually cold and unpleasant natural as autumn emerged, thus shorter days and colder nights. Subconsciously, Kyle tugged his coat closer to his torso and continued trekking towards the grand, glass doors.

Kyle held his breath when he caught the image of Eric standing in the entrance of the restaurant, a cell phone pressed to his ear and a disgruntled expression plastered across his handsome face. His features had barely changed since Kyle last memorized them, but his cheeks and torso had vaguely slimmed. His demeanor was more professional and intense, but still, he himself did not intimidate Kyle. The redhead was only nervous about what he would even _say_ to the other man.

As he took strides towards Eric, who seemed to be in the midst of an argument with someone, he waited to be addressed with pursed lips. It was hardly a moment before Eric glanced up at him. A grin curved his lips before he grumbled something into the phone before hanging up and sliding it into his pocket, Eric greeted Kyle with, “Well damn—look who showed up.” 

Kyle lifted an eyebrow, “Were you doubting it?”

The other man shrugged his shoulders and replied, “Would that be a ridiculous doubt?” before giving the host his surname. The neatly dressed man nodded and led the two men to a table towards the back of the surprisingly extravagant restaurant. Kyle felt slightly overwhelmed by the stained-glass dividers, tuxedo-clad waiters, expensive flower arrangements, and high-class ambiance being the man who survived on a diet of Lean Cuisine and granola bars.

As they took their seats, their server promised he would soon return with a bottle of wine. Kyle smiled politely at the man and watched him speed off to the backroom of the restaurant. He then turned his attention to Eric with a questioning eyebrow, “You know I wouldn’t have complained about meeting up at Wendy’s, right?”

Eric chuckled, “My excessiveness is noted. But, are you complaining about this place?”

“Not at all, it’s just… I don’t know. I guess you’ve changed a lot over the years.” Kyle laughed, a bit awkwardly, training his eyes on the menu before him.

Eric narrowed his eyes, tugging the edges of the menu towards himself as well. “If I had money in college I would have done this.”

While Kyle didn’t believe that for a second, he changed the subject, “What do you do now?”

Eric’s expression shifted, lightening a bit again, “I created a distribution center for some local businesses to be able to ship their products nationally.”

“Wow, like, baby Amazon?” Kyle asked.

Eric considered the nickname for a moment, “I guess so. I wouldn’t mind turning out like Jeff Bezos. I also just bought a Jimmy John’s franchise.”

“Well, that’s cool,” Kyle assured, genuinely impressed. “Did you tell Clyde that actually showing up for classes pays off in the long run?”

Eric rolled his eyes at the mention of Kyle’s old college roommate. “He wasn’t going to listen to anyone back in college. He dropped out after sophomore year.”

“Really?” The conversation paused to allow the waiter to pour them both glasses of wine. “What does he do now?”

“Last time he asked me to borrow money he was still unemployed in South Park. So, I’m assuming still that.” Eric answered before taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage.

“Damn, that sucks.” Kyle sighed, feeling a pang of guilt for not sticking around to keep him in check.

“He brought it on himself,” Eric shrugged nonchalantly. “Meanwhile, Bebe’s in medical school and marrying some dude I don’t know.”

“Well, hey, good for her. Are Tweek and Craig still a thing? I haven’t seen Tweek at home in ages.”

Eric shook his head, “’Fraid not. I would tell you why they broke up, but Craig still refuses to talk about it. He’s got this whole photography business that he’s super serious about anyways.”

“Do you all still hang out a lot?” Kyle asked.

“Craig not so much as Kenny and Butters, but a decent amount, I guess.”

“Aw, how are Kenny and Butters? I miss them.”

Eric rolled his eyes, “Trust me, they miss you, too. They talk about you a least once a week. They’re fine, though. Ken does free lancing electrician shit, and Butters is some kind of gender therapist.”

Kyle smiled at the extremely fitting career choices. “That’s awesome. I felt so bad I couldn’t come to the wedding, that’s when my internship really sucked.”

“Yeah, we were really hoping you’d come. But, what about you?” Eric asked. “Did you give into your ancestry and become an accountant or are you still lawyer-ing?”

Kyle rolled his eyes, “Alright, so you _haven’t_ changed since I’ve known you.”

“Nope,” Eric smirked. “Just got richer.”

“Asshole,” Kyle muttered playfully before answering the question. “I’m doing a paid internship at the Hitchcock Law Firm. I just finished law school this spring.”

“Ah, so you’re about to be richer, too,” Eric pointed out. “But, you’ve changed.”

Confused, Kyle perked his head to the side, “What makes you say that? We’ve been here for literally five minutes.”

Eric leaned against the table, his careful stare taking in Kyle’s pretty features. From simply running into Kyle at Starbucks early that day, he had notice the lack of a gleam in his rich, chocolate brown eyes, and dark circles beneath them both. His posture had worsened, making him appear less fierce and confident than he remembered. “I don’t know… You’re just different.”

Kyle remained preoccupied with Eric’s answer as the waiter returned to take their orders. After both of them submitted their desired meal, he jumped on the topic again. “Different how?”

“I can’t really explain it, honest. Maybe you’ve just gotten older.” Eric assured him, digging himself out of that hole before it got any deeper. “So, do you still talk to that Stan asshole?”

“Actually, yeah. Him and his family live right down the street.” Kyle revealed, taking a long drink of his wine.

Eric nodded, “Family?”

“Yep. His wife and two kids. Well, almost two,” Kyle grinned at the excitement of meeting a brand new niece shortly. “His first one’s almost three now. And _he’s_ an accountant,”

Eric smirked humorously, “Didn’t expect sporty jock guy to settle so soon.”

“Yeah, well, when you don’t get into the only league that you care about, what are you gonna do? But his wife’s really cool. Except she just lets that kid do whatever the hell she wants,” Kyle huffed. “I came over last week and she was sitting there eating dinner without any clothes on. At the kitchen table!”

The brunette grinned to himself, enjoying watching Kyle get worked up. After all this time, he still immensely enjoyed Kyle’s indignant expression. His heart throbbed at how much he had missed him. So many relationships and opportunities at happiness with someone else had come along throughout the years, but nobody in the world compared to Kyle Broflovski. It was completely juvenile, and Eric was aware, but he truly never felt the way he felt about Kyle again with anyone else. And yet, years later, as he sat across from him in their new lives as functioning members in society, he was receiving all those butterflies in his stomach as if he were meeting him for the first time all over again back on the community college campus.

“I’ve missed you.” Eric blurted out. Before he began to regret his decision to put his heart out on his sleeve, he watched Kyle’s cheeks turn rosy. That alone was worth it.

Kyle pursed his lips and cast his gaze to the ground, considerably caught off guard by the declaration. “Yeah… It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah…” Eric parroted. “We didn’t exactly part on the best terms, either.”

Kyle shrugged, “It’s alright, though. We were just in different places at the time.”

The other man scoffed. Kyle’s expression shifted as well, but before he could comment, their nicely dressed server brought them their food. The two forced formal grins at the man as he poured refilled their elegant glasses with wine before sauntering off again.

“The hell was that?” Kyle asked regarding Eric’s reaction to his statement. Eric merely shook his head and stuffed his mouth with pasta. His obvious attempts to drop the matter were overlooked, “Am I wrong or something?”

The brunette took his time to chew and swallow his food. His eyes cast away from Kyle’s face, “If that’s the bullshit you tell yourself to make you feel better about what happened between us, that’s fine.”

“Bullshit?” Kyle demanded, eyebrows creasing together. Any anxiety left in him was swiftly replace with growing defensiveness. “How is that bullshit? I was willing to make a long-distance relationship work, and you weren’t, so you—you started pushing me away again, like you always did when things looked remotely hard.”

“That,” Eric pointed, “is the bullshit.”

Kyle chuckled indignantly, “Really?” 

Eric set down his fork abruptly against his plate. Clenching his jaw, he remembered just how _angry_ Kyle could make him as well as how happy he could. “You chose school and work over me, Kyle. That’s on you. You know long distance relationships never pan out. And you barely even tried—“

“Neither did you! You wrote me out of your life as soon as I got my acceptance letter! I’m sorry that I took the opportunity to better myself and reach my goals! If you really cared about anything but yourself, you would have been happy for me.”

“Are you kidding me?” Eric growled. “I fucking worshiped you, what the hell makes you think I didn’t care? I’m so goddamn sorry that you moving states and screaming at me for two hours straight before you did fucked me up.”

“And here we are. Five goddamn years later, having the exact same argument in the middle of a fucking restaurant,” Kyle snorted. He glanced around in disbelief of himself and the man in front of them. It was as if they hadn’t spent a day apart—and it felt like a day apart is just what he needed. The redhead stood to his feet, tossing a napkin over his un-touched meal. His brown stare pierced a hole through Eric’s skull as he pulled some cash from his wallet and tossed it on the table. “I’m sorry I wasted your time. The next time you randomly see me on the streets, don’t fucking ask for a reunion.”

With that, Kyle yanked his coat from the back of his chair and stormed out of the restaurant with a chest full of raw emotions boiling up inside of him. This was ridiculous—he hadn’t had to deal with anything relating to Eric in so long, and there he was, a half-hour dinner driving him up a wall. It seemed to him that his feelings should have at least dissipated over the years. Instead, they amplified, and eventually overflowed with a single push. “Fuck,” Kyle muttered under his breath.

Why he even agreed to an impromptu dinner invitation from an ex-boyfriend of half a decade was beyond him, and quite frankly unlike him. Kyle always tried to keep his life organized and schedule oriented specifically so he wouldn’t have to feel a harsh burning in his chest as he did. There was no logic in these overwhelming feelings from a man who he hadn’t even interacted with in such a long time. Despite all logic, however, he felt like crying as he stalked purposefully to his vehicle.

“Dude, Kyle!” Eric’s voice called out from across the parking lot over the strong Colorado winds. He was ignored, but not fazed. Each stride was longer than the last in attempts to catch up with the retreating redhead. Just as Kyle reached the vehicle, Eric called out desperately. “What the fuck is your problem?!”

Kyle paused, gazing over the top of his car to find Eric’s furious expression. He scrunched his nose and retorted, “You’re an asshole, that is my problem!”

“How am I the asshole?!” Eric wondered defensively, taking a stride closer to the other man to keep his attention. “You’re the one who just fucking stormed out on me like a child!”

“Oh, blow it out your ass,” Kyle spoke behind gritted teeth, “Can you just let me go?! I was perfectly fine living my life without dealing with your immature bullshit! If I knew I’d be sucked right back into all of this I would have just ignored you!”

Kyle felt an instant pang of guilt when he saw Eric’s face fall. He replied less passionately than before, “You think I wanted to fight with you? I’m _so_ sorry that I wanted to see you! We dated for two years, douchebag, I thought we were capable of having a normal conversation!”

“Well clearly we can’t! What were you expecting? For me to be super happy to see you after everything you said to me and put me through?!” Kyle pressed, stepping towards him with a heaving chest and glossy eyes. “What did you think would happen? We could just pretend this was a normal relationship?! That we had an amicable breakup?”

Eric’s resolve was growing weaker the closer Kyle came. While it did not come as a surprise to him that he felt exactly the same for this man as he had when they were teenagers, he was rendered completely distracted with the desire to draw him the rest of the way in.

“What do you want from me?!” Kyle demanded, regarding Eric’s concentration breaking. He continued, “You want me to pretend that you didn’t hurt me?! That missing you wasn’t hell? Did you want to pick up where we left off, but this time with less petty, juvenile, stupid, idiotic—“

“Oh my god, shut up,” Eric cut off his ranting and reached with a cold hand to grasp the back of his neck and crash their lips together. Wrath and disbelief continued to rile inside of Kyle, but his heart melted at the feeling of being kissed so forcefully and passionately. All the long-repressed emotions that the relationship granted rapidly rose within him, though anger remained at the forefront. He let out a sigh through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut tight and throwing his arms around Eric’s neck.

The two held one another tightly, kissing as if they were accosting one another. Time passed in slow motion as they explored the taste and feel of one another for the first time in years. Eric knew he went out on limb by initiating this romantic contact, but he could think of nothing more he wanted to do—kiss Kyle and coax him into a subdued state. He savored the feeling of those soft ringlets against his fingers, heart throbbing faster than it had since their first kiss.

Slowly, hesitantly, Kyle drew back from the intense PDA in the middle of a parking lot. His voice was low and breathless, “Don’t tell me to shut up,”

“Stop fucking talking for ten minutes at a time and I won’t have to, you self-righteous asshole,” Eric sighed back.

“You’re an idiot,” Kyle grunted before forcing their lips together again. He fiddled with his car keys momentarily until successfully unlocking the car, then turning to pull the door ajar. The pair climbed into the backseat, not daring to split from one another’s embrace in fear of losing dominance. They disregarded their somewhat easily viewable position as they kissed, sucked, and bit one another’s lips with fever.

“I don’t know why I’m wasting my time on this shit again,” the redhead’s voice was essentially a gasp as he fed his fingers through Eric’s hair and received a trail of kisses down his neck. “Shit,” he muttered at the overwhelming sensation of the other man sucking at a particularly sensitive spot on his collar bone that he was shocked was not forgotten.

“I don’t know why you still won’t shut your big, stupid mouth,” Eric replied, slightly humorously, before returning to the task of reddening Kyle’s fair skin with deep, bruising hickeys. Symbolizing his desire for Kyle to be silent (and in general), he lifted a hand and shove his index and middle finger into his open mouth. His entire body felt feeble when he peered up to watch his heart-shaped lips wrap around his fingers and begin to suck on them.

“Was that better?” Kyle drawled, removing Eric fingers from his mouth and immediately being met with a fervent kiss.

Eric pulled away, entranced and muttering, “Can you please take me somewhere with a bed before I fuck you right here?”

They reluctantly withdrew long enough to make the journey to Kyle’s apartment, rubbing one another’s thighs and erections the entire way there and stealing quick, hungry kisses at every red-light. They were spellbound by the heated, passionate reunion, seemingly physically incapable of separating for a single moment despite the remaining irritation for one another festering inside them. The night consisted of nothing but desperate kisses between snide remarks and the furious sexual reunion neither were planning for nor complaining about.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my patient blueberries  
> i'll be very shocked if anyone cares abt this story still but just in case you do i would like to sincerely apologize for how long it took me to post the last chapter, i wrote like 3/4 of it one day and accidentally deleted all of it so i got (un)reasonably frustrated and took a mental break before completely restarting  
> anyways, i hope it makes up for the bummer of the time jump last chapter and that u like it!  
> ps the beginning is a flash back so that's why it's in italics just in case it wasn't clear  
> love u <3

_“That’s all you’re allowed to bring?” Kenny questioned, watching Kyle throw two large duffel bags into the backseat of his boyfriend’s truck. The congregation of his two closest friends and boyfriend had met up at the Broflovski residence in Fairplay to bid Kyle farewell before he moved to California for college._

_Kyle nodded, “Well, yeah, I have to fly there. It’s not like I can drive to Berkley, California from here.”_

_“Don’t worry, he shoved some books and extra pens into my luggage,” Stan assured Kenny, arms crossed over his chest._

_Shrugging innocently, Kyle defended, “Well, you’re only, like, an hour flight away,”_

_“Yeah, and a five hour drive!”_

_Kenny chuckled, continuing to take constant side-glances at the visibly upset Eric. He was well aware of his friend’s opposition to his boyfriend of almost two years crossing state lines and not returning to Millville Community College with himself, Clyde, Craig, and Tweek. Eric had never coped well with change, and the last few years had made him the happiest version of himself that Kenny had encountered in twenty years of knowing him. Much to Eric’s chagrin, he had great concern for him, “You good?”_

_“Yep,” Eric retorted shortly, though it was not true._

_While Eric was able to accept Bebe and Butters transferring schools and Kenny graduating, he had particular difficulty imagining returning to campus without Kyle down the hall. His throat had felt tight with realization that their relationship as he knew it was over for months then, since Kyle applied to every decent law program on the western side of the country and finally got accepted to University of California, Berkley._

_Kyle did his best to ignore Eric’s foul mood and allow himself to buzz with excitement at his new opportunity. While it was not his first choice, UC Berkley was an exceptional college that would certainly redeem his academic reputation. He was exceedingly proud of himself and simultaneously hyperaware of the sadness him leaving Colorado brought his boyfriend. Eric had been distant, testy, and seemingly filled with hopelessness the entire day of his departure, even more so than the weeks prior._

_Stan had managed to grow fairly used to Eric over the few years he had been acquainted with him, yet his lack of support for Kyle remained quite bothersome He witnessed Kyle’s spirits much lower than they should have been for someone who had achieved something extremely noteworthy in terms of their future. He took the opportunity of Kenny and Eric conversing quietly to tug Kyle to the side and address the situation, “Dude, are you sure you don’t want me to drive you? Cartman’s being a total bummer.”_

_With a sigh and a glance over at his pouting boyfriend, he replied, “I’m sure, we definitely need to talk all this shit out before I go. That’s why I wanted it to be just us,”_

_Nodding, Stan said, “I get it, I really do, I just hate to see you so mopey. This is supposed to be exciting!”_

_“It is,” Kyle assured him with a forced grin, “But, you just have to understand it’s breaking his heart to know I’ll be gone for half the year. I mean, we’ve been together pretty much every single day since half-way through freshmen year.”_

_Before Stan could rebuttal, Kyle’s mother came bustling through the front door with a small bag and a proud smile. Trailing behind her was Ike, who repeatedly offended Stan with his mere existence since his growth spurt rendered him taller. “Alright, bubby, here’s some snacks for you and Eric on the way there! I made them sugar free, as always,”_

_Kyle took the offering of treats from Sheila before leaning in for a hug. “Thanks, Ma, you’re the best.”_

_“Oh, we’re so proud of you, Kyle,” She told him for what felt like the millionth time, but remained an encouraging sentiment._

_When his mother finally let him withdraw from the embrace, Kyle’s younger brother took a turn addressing him, “I didn’t bake you cookies and I’m not going to hug you, but congrats on getting to go somewhere where warmth exists.”_

_“Thanks, Ike,” Kyle droned with a simper, “Congrats on making it to senior year with absolute bare minimum effort.”_

_Ike threw an arm around Stan’s shoulders and patted his chest, “Learned from the best,”_

_The three chuckled as Stan pushed the teenager away from him. Sheila turned to warn her son’s boyfriend with a hand on her hip, “Now, Eric, you be careful getting on the highway with that big truck! Your mother told me your interesting history with car wrecks,”_

_Eric’s expression remained blank, “I’ll be super careful. Wouldn’t want bigshot to miss his flight,” with that, he clicked his truck unlocked and climbed into the driver’s seat._

_Kyle held back a wince when he heard the door slam and fielded the confused expressions from his family with a deep exhale, “He’s just having a hard time with the long-distance relationship aspect of me getting into UC Berkley.”_

_“Oh, you boys will be just fine! You know, your father and I didn’t see each other for almost two years while he finished law school!” Sheila assured him, giving his arm a comforting squeeze._

_“I know, Ma,” Kyle grinned, “Thanks for the cookies. I’ll see you guys at Thanksgiving.”_

_After another lingering hug, Sheila ushered Ike inside with her. Stan remained on the sidewalk beside Eric’s car, his grin somewhat matching Sheila’s prideful beaming. “Try and have a nice last few hours with your man. And definitely have a good time at an actual Kyle-level college,”_

_“I’ll try,” the redhead said during a short side-hug. He then turned to find Kenny’s arms wide open, lip pouted to feign sadness. “Why do you look like you’re gonna cry?”_

_“Maybe I am,” Kenny joked, pulling his friend into an embrace. “I’m really gonna miss you, bud. You better not fuckin’ forget about us.”_

_Kyle smirked, drawing back, “How could I forget about you when my shirt will smell like Axe and cigarettes from this hug for at least a week?”_

_Kenny chuckled shortly, “You know you’ll miss it—it comes with this sexy face.”_

_“Fine, I am going to miss your sexy face,” Kyle amended humorously. Remembrance of the somber conversation he was due to undergo with his boyfriend brought a more serious connotation to his following request, “Please take care of him for me. I don’t want him to fall apart because of this,”_

_“Oh, he for sure will,” the blond warned him, half-joking. “But, don’t worry, I been taking care of him a lot longer than you. I got this.”_

_With a ‘thank you’ and another quick round of good-byes to his good friends, Kyle inhaled a deep, apprehensive breath before pulling the passenger door ajar and claiming the spot beside his boyfriend. A quick glance to his left revealed that Eric was in a disgruntled trace as he mindlessly scrolled through his news feed. Kyle reached a hand over to touch his thigh and gave him a weak smile, “You ready?”_

_“Yep,” Eric replied simply, preparing his iPhone GPS system before putting the car into drive and leaving Fairplay behind them. Kyle watched as his neighborhood and hometown quickly became a far off sight and waited for his boyfriend to say something._

_“Are you okay?” he finally decided to pose the inquiry after a grueling half hour of near silence._

_Eric gave a short nod, “I’m fine.”_

_Kyle waited yet another uncomfortable bought of quiet to continue to press, “Babe, clearly you’re upset, can you just talk to me?”_

_“What would you like me to say, Kyle?” Eric scoffed, throwing his shoulders forward as he refused to give his boyfriend any form of eye-contact. “I told you, I’m fine. That’s all that really needs to be said.”_

_Kyle’s patience for the situation began to grow thin after the snarky retort, “You and I both know that you are not okay, so stop acting like a child and just talk to me.” Eric shook his head, indignation lightly coloring his cheeks. When he failed to respond, Kyle’s voice came back raised, “Are you seriously going to do this to me with the last few moments we really have to spend together?”_

_“That’s fucking rich,” Eric quipped, gripping the steering wheel tighter to cope with the uncomfortable emotions bursting inside of him. “I didn’t ask for these to be our last few moments.”_

_Kyle blew a raspberry, exasperated at the notion. He threw his gaze back out the window, attempting to distract and calm himself down with the alluring mountain scenery that surrounded them. “Okay, whatever. Thanks for supporting me.”_

_“Fuck off, you know I support you.”_

_“Do I?” Kyle challenged._

_Eric’s eyebrows furrowed even further, and he finally stowed an angry gaze to his right. He cursed Kyle’s daily flawless appearance and how phenomenal he looked in an over-worn sweatshirt and a dad hat resting atop his head. “What kind of fucking question is that?”_

_“A legitimate one,” Kyle assured him emphatically. “You have been nothing but depressed all day long, and you’ve been boarder-line ignoring me all week! Do you actually support me going to a better college to finish my degree? Are you even happy for me?!”_

_“Of course I’m happy for you, dumbass,” he snapped, knuckles turning white. “Don’t accuse me of shit like that!”_

_Kyle let out an exasperated laugh and tossed his hands up in the air in defeat, “What the hell am I supposed to think when you act this way?!”_

_“What am I supposed to think when you have zero fucking qualms about being damn near halfway across the country just to get a degree that you could easily get an hour away?!”_

_Taking a moment to chew and swallow the accusation, Kyle grit his teeth, “You are so damn selfish.”_

_“Oh, fuck you, I’m selfish.”_

_“You are, Eric! You are selfish! Selfish people act like petty little fucking babies when things don’t go the way they want them to!” Kyle snapped, barely gasping for air between sentences, “Can’t you see that I wasn’t getting anything out of Millville?! It isn’t the kind of academic environment I’ve always strived for! I have always wanted to go to—“_

_“Stanford, yeah, I know, you never shut your fucking mouth about it.” Eric cut him off viciously._

_“Wow,” Kyle huffed in disbelief. He folded his arms over his chest and sunk back into the seat. His gaze remained fixed on his scrunched-nosed partner, though it was far off as he was overcome with a hopeless kind of anger. “You are absolutely incredible.”_

_Eric rolled his eyes and maintained brooding silence for the next few minutes to come. Occasionally he forced the welling of tears in his eyes to cease, doing his best to not allow Kyle to view this undesired, uncontrollable reaction to him losing his boyfriend and letting him slip away on such a terrible note. Despite his knowledge of the direness of the situation to their relationship’s health, he could not muster up the strength to swallow his feelings of sorrow and injustice. What he should do and say were on the tip of his tongue, but the combination of self-loathing and despondence at Kyle leaving were too great to overcome._

_“Why the hell did you even agree to drive me to the airport when you knew you would act like this?” Kyle reignited the flames in an even tone after somewhat regaining his emotional bearings. “I would have just asked Stan to take me if you would have told me it would be too much for you,”_

_“Well, he can drive you wherever the hell you want when you guys start fucking each other in California,” Eric retorted without his brain’s consent, dangerously aware of the line he had crossed._

_Every ounce of patience gone, Kyle shouted, “Are you_ fucking _serious right now, Eric?! After almost two years of being with me, you still are seriously jealous of my straight best friend?! Do you think me going to a really good law school is some conspiracy to get into Stan’s pants?!”_

_Recovering from the initial shuttering reaction from hearing Kyle’s shrill raised voice, he shot back, “It wouldn’t surprise me if it was a nice bonus for your greedy ass!”_

_“What?!” Kyle continued to explode, “I’m_ greedy _now, too?! For absolutely not wanting to have sex with my, again,_ straight _, friend, and what else? Wanting to actually better myself instead of wasting my potential with some bullshit small business management degree at a community college?! Grow the entire fuck up, man!”_

_Eric’s own tone rose to a yell, “Fuck you! You think you’re fucking better than me just because you’re going to overpay for the same degree I’m going to get?! You’re not fucking fooling anyone, Kyle, you’re just too damn pretentious to realize that your ego and addiction to being the smartest person in the room isn’t worth ditching all your friends over.”_

_“I’m not ditching anyone, you idiot! It’s called a work ethic, and maybe you should find one before you end up in a shitty situation because you think that everyone in the world owes you something! I don’t owe you a thing, Eric! Especially when you can’t even give me a sliver of support and graciousness! When are you going to learn that this entire fucking planet doesn’t revolve around you?!”_

_“When are you going to shut the fuck up?! God, you are so fucking annoying! You get on my last nerve with all this self-promoting, holier-than-thou bullshit! You’re a fucking loser just like the rest of us, you’re just a stuck up one!”_

_Throat sore, eyes watery, and heart slamming against his chest, Kyle completely deflated with the personal attacks and insults piling up and burying him. He took in his bottom lip between his teeth to cease the quivering and felt his soul begin to sink. Saddened and glossy brown eyes focused on his balled fist relaxing into an empty clutch. Kyle knew full well this ride would not be entirely pleasant, but he had no inclinations that his boyfriend would express such mean-spirited intolerance toward him._

_Eric’s own passion dissipated, though he couldn’t bring himself to peer over and reflect upon the damage he had caused. It was too painful for him to analyze the wreckage that he had left behind—his destructive trait too easily detectable and something he feared he would never outgrow. He focused his own cloudy gaze at the long stretch of road and cars before them, regretting the day he was ever born more with each passing second that he allowed this to be his final meeting with Kyle for at least three months._

_On arriving at the airport in Denver, the couple wordlessly exited Eric’s vehicle and grabbed a bag each to carry into the building. Kyle checked and double-checked that his paperwork for admittance was in order as Eric stared blankly at nothing and focused on the feeling of his heart breaking at the announcement that summoned Kyle to board the plane._

_The two finally locked gazes, both lacking clarity. They shared a forced hug and peck on the lips before Kyle took the weight of both duffel bags onto his shoulders. Eric barely managed a whisper, peering at the perfect face he would miss so completely, though he realized he had unearned the right to appreciate it, “I love you,”_

_Kyle granted himself a short moment to scrutinize Eric’s appearance. At a time that he thought he would not be able to obtain enough of a mental image of his handsome face, soft brown hair, adorable flannel-clad torso, half-exposed thick calves beneath cargo shorts, he could barely stand to look at the boy when his eyes were so full of distress and desperation. The redhead was not sure what he was feeling, but empty was fairly accurate. “Goodbye, Eric.”_

_He didn’t give himself time to regret not uttering the phrase in return before turning away from Eric and making his way off to the plane, praying to himself that they served alcohol and were generous with the amount._

_

It had been a month since Kyle had come back into his life, and he was not surprised by the undeniable feeling of completion that washed over him whenever they met up at nine o’clock for an angry hook up. Despite their relationship not being quite what he desired it to be, he was determined to groom their new situation back into the loving and incredible companionship he had yet to come across again since their untimely end that came five years prior. Eric never stopped wishing things had gone differently, and more often than that, had also never stopped missing Kyle.

Now that he no longer had to plunge into the depths of his mental archives to retrieve the memories of how Kyle’s hair smelled like sweet candy, how his lips were firm and plump, how his body loved to try to dominate despite its slim stature, how his voice was high and loud but unique and perfect, he was determined to never let himself forget any of those things again.

Eric’s eyes drank in Kyle’s exposed body as he bustled around to retrieve all the articles of his work ensemble that had previously been discarded across Eric’s bedroom. A satisfied smile played across his lips as he forced himself out of the lustful trance Kyle very easily let him slip into. He forced himself to focus on his preconceived plan prior to yet another sexual escapade, “Go on a date with me,”

Caught off guard by the invitation (demand), Kyle peered up at him thoughtfully as he tugged on his dress socks. “What?”

“You heard me,” Eric replied, swinging his legs off the side of the mattress and he pulled on his own shirt. “I want to make up for the last time we got food together.”

Though it was indubitably tempting, Kyle remained firm in his uncertainty for their relationship. Reuniting with his former lover had been an insanely positive change of course from his usual, mundane routine of sleeping, working, eating, and preparing for death. These rendezvous returned pleasure and passion to his life; however, he was not prepared to make a commitment.

Kyle wetted his lips, avoiding the expectant gaze from across the room, “Eric… I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Eric pressed, letting a disappointed sigh fall from his lips, “Come on, we’ve been hooking up for weeks now, you don’t want anything else to do with me?”

The exposure of Kyle’s intentions complicated his response, “I just… I don’t think we’re a good match, Eric. Do I care about you? Yes. Am I attracted to you? Clearly, but, I—“

“Kyle,” he was cut off as Eric stepped closer to decrease their distance. There was a gleam in his eyes as he took Kyle’s boney hand in his, “You really think we aren’t a good match? I mean, seriously?”

Kyle ignored the adolescent-esque tingling sensation the notion brought him, “We hadn’t spoken in years because—“

“And now we can’t keep our hands off of each other!” Eric interrupted again, “Have you ever found someone who gets you like I do?”

“Eric, I—“

Kyle was cut off yet again, this time by a rapping on the front door of Eric’s house. Perplexed and somewhat annoyed, Eric strode over to the entrance and peered into the peephole. “Oh for suck’s sake,”

The door was coming ajar as Kyle made his way down the hall, the creator of the knocking sound and subject of Eric’s exasperation revealed to be a friend that he was not seen in what felt like a century. His voice had not changed, though almost everything else about him had, “Kyle!”

“Holy shit, hey, Kenny!” he barely had time to exhale before he was encased in a hug.

Eric grumbled something about Kenny being a little shit as the two withdrew from the excited embrace. Kenny’s grin remained as he said, “Dude, ya look great,”

Kyle took in his friend’s appearance, which was much more rugged and mature since the last time they had met in person. His dirty blond hair had grown out considerably, falling in somewhat neater waves almost down to his shoulders. The piercing in his lip had been taken out, a close trimmed beard nicely framing his face and sharp jawline. Even though he appeared even edgier than years ago, his kind eyes and freckles granted him a remaining youthful glow (and his signature scent of cologne attempting to tame tobacco was unmistakable). “You look super hot,” he blurted inadvertently.

His comment earned a protesting glare from Eric and a hearty laugh from Kenny, “So, what the hell took you so long to come back into my life?”

Kyle sighed, genuinely unsure of what to say, “Uh, college, work, life...”

Kenny nodded, grinning, “I get it, man. Shit got away from us. What’s important is that you’re here and Eric isn’t going to hog you anymore.”

“You can’t _hog_ a person, you lunatic,” Eric groaned, “What are you doing here?”

“What, I can’t drop by and see my best bro?”

“No,”

“Okay, my lighter went out on my way home and I came to steal yours.” Kenny revealed his intentions, tracing into the kitchen to retrieve the object. He called, “How you been, Kyle?”

Eric followed the taller blond man into the adjacent room with eyebrows pinched together. He spouted, “You really need to smoke that bad that you’re going to take my camping lighter for candles? And use them for cigarettes? You live ten minutes away!”

Kenny picked up the large stemmed lighter and smirked at him, “You clearly don’t know how a severe nicotine addiction works.”

Chuckling at the interaction, Kyle nodded at him, “I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m grand,” Kenny replied, pulling out a half-full pack of cigarettes absentmindedly, “I have money now, _and_ a kiss ass wife.”

“I’m really happy for you two,” Kyle grinned, “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding.”

“No sweat, we get how busy you are. Last time we got you away from work was before Leah’s surgery,” Kenny replied, feigning for nonchalance to downplay the enthusiasm he felt to see the friend he missed dearly after keeping in minimal touch over the years. “Plus, I got plenty of pictures of how fuckin’ sexy she looked in her dress.”

Eric cocked an eyebrow, “Wait, what are you talking about? You guys hung out after Millville?”

Awkwardly, Kyle revealed, “Yeah, a few times.”

Kenny nodded in agreement and patted his friend on the back, “Yeah, man, you’re not invited to everything.”

With a dry chuckle, Kyle picked up his cross-shoulder work bag. He glanced down at his shirt and flushed at the realization that it was not buttoned evenly. Before he could decide whether or not to acknowledge it or pretend he hadn’t noticed, Kenny was addressing him, “Hey, since I clearly know you and Eric are fuckin’ again, you should come to this party Leah’s throwing for me next weekend. You won’t know everyone because she went absolutely overboard for a guy turning twenty-six, but Clyde, Bebe, Craig, and Tweek will be there.”

“Tweek?” Eric and Kyle repeated in surprised unison.

Kenny shrugged, “That’s just what Leah told me. Apparently him and Craig are still in touch.”

“What?! Craig won’t even talk about him,” Eric argued, remaining confused by the situation.

“Yeah, I know everyone went through some weird, dramatic bullshit. Expect for me, my relationship is super awesome and has been now for…” he paused, using his fingers to count, “Seven years,”

Eric rolled his eyes, “Says the guy that can’t even remember how long he’s been with his wife.”

Sharing a laugh with the two, Kyle let out a sigh, “Well, guys, I better get going. Kenny, it was awesome to see you, I will do my best to show up to your party, and as always, thank you for your lewd observations.”

Kenny sent him a wink as he turned to exit the home. He glanced back at Eric, who followed him to the threshold. He grinned, “Wanna be my date?”

Allowing a smile to stretch his lips, the redhead hummed, “We’ll see.”

They shared a chaste kiss before Kyle made his way out of the building. Eric secured the door shut and stowed his gaze to the blond intruder, “Dude, fuck you.”

With a laugh, Kenny retorted, “C’mon! I been tryin’ to get Kyle to show up to shit for years, of course I’m gonna bust in when I see a car with a Star of David and Pride flag bumper sticker parked in your driveway.”

Eric grimaced, “You’re lucky Kyle doesn’t know you have a four pack of lighters on you at all times.”

Kenny laughed at the exposure of his lame but apparently believable excuse for swinging by unannounced at eight in the evening. He spun the lighter around his index finger, “I have used one of these bad boys in a pinch. So, how’d it go? Did you both finish?”

Ignoring the final question, Eric shrugged and trekked toward the fridge. “He doesn’t think we should actually go on a date. He thinks we’re not a good match.”

“What?” Kenny questioned, accepting the cold beer his friend offered. “He got dumber.”

Eric blew a raspberry, taking a long drink of the alcoholic beverage. He stowed his gaze down at the ground, “I mean, this has been so great, Kenny. Being with him again, it’s just… I just want…”

“More?” Eric nodded, keeping his lips firmly shut. Kenny continued, “Just don’t give up, okay? Obviously he wants to be with you, I mean, how many times have you slept together since you met up with him again, like, ten?”

Eric barked a laugh, “Add, like, seven.”

“Dude,” Kenny raised his eyebrows, “Nice!”

“I know,” the brunette grinned.

“Anyways, don’t get yourself down. This is you and Kyle, man! It just makes sense. He’s just been going off and doing his own thing for a while, let him dip his toes in and don’t freak out.”

Hating to admit Kenny was right, he decided to change the subject though the thought of Kyle and their relationship refused to leave his mind.

_

“Oh my god!” Butters shrieked happily, the familiar country twang putting a smile on Kyle’s face. She set down her plastic cup and trotted over to the new presence in the doorway.

“Hey, Butters,” Kyle wrapped her up in a hug. After much begging from Eric and a second surprise visit from Kenny, he was sufficiently guilted into showing up. He remained on edge despite the surprisingly amicable and non-sexual ride he enjoyed with Eric to the couple’s considerably large, well decorated ranch toward the edge of South Park.

Butters withdrew from the embrace, grinning up at her friend. She, too, had undergone a series of changes, most notably so a bob haircut and noticeably larger breasts. Her painted-lip smile was wide, radiating positive energy. “Thank you so much for coming! Everyone will be so excited to see you!”

“Yeah, it’s been too long. I don’t really know what Kenny’s into now, but I know what he smokes,” Kyle explained, handing her a carton of red Marlboro cigarettes with a bow taped to the box.

“The one thing I wish I could change about my husband,” Butters sighed, setting the gift on island behind her. “So, how are you?! Well, gee, what’s it been, like, three years?!”

Eric tossed his hands up in the air in exasperation, “You were around _two years_ after we broke up and didn’t bother to see me?!”

Butters cringed, “Oh, dear, did I strike a nerve?”

“Everything strikes a nerve with him,” Kyle reassured her, pinning Eric with a dirty glare. “I’m good, though. I’m interning now, but hopefully in a few years or so I’ll become a partner. What about you? Eric tells me you’re a therapist now?”

“Yep! I specialize in gender dysphoria and LGBTQIA plus counseling. I love it! I just finished grad school last year, so I’m still just getting started but let me tell you, it’s just incredible work!”

As Butters gestured while she explained her career, Kyle could not help but notice the enormous teardrop engagement ring on her finger. He widened his eyes, “Jesus Christ, Kenny must be doing some incredible work to afford that thing!”

“Oh, thank you! I love just bein' Mrs. McCormick, but I also love bein' spoiled!” she giggled happily, fanning out her fingers to gaze at the diamond jewelry she had been proudly displaying for years then. “Well, he’s real conservative with money ‘til it comes to me.”

“Talkin’ shit again, baby?” Kenny questioned, grabbing a handful of potato chips as he passed the counter.

The smaller blonde grinned up at him as he snaked his arm around her waist, “Never. Here you go, by the way,” she announced, picking up Kyle’s gift and handing it off to him, “More cancer.”

Kenny sent Kyle a pleased smirk, “Thanks, man, good lookin’ out. So, we managed to wear you down?”

With a sigh, Kyle confirmed, “It wasn’t so much the incessant begging as it was Eric refusing to leave my apartment until I agreed to come.”

“Nice,” Kenny complimented, reaching a fist over for Eric to pound.

“Well, shit,” another familiar voice called from behind the four friends; one that either kept Kyle up far passed his desired sleeping window, or consistently distracted him from his studies for two years of his life. He turned to find a matured Clyde, flanked by a barely matured Tweek and an essentially unchanged Craig. “My long lost mother.”

With a sarcastic chuckle, Kyle leaned into a hug from his old roommate. “My messy son,”

The brunette clapped a hand on Kyle’s shoulder, taking in the sight of him after years of barely communicating. “We sure have missed you, man. California fucked us over.”

“Hey, Kyle,” Tweek greeted with a weak wave, enormous green eyes flicking around the room as if he were trying to find the source of an unpleasant noise. Clad in an outfit that could easily have been from their first semester of college, Craig nodded at him in greeting, though his focus was clearly captured by the nervous blond beside him.

As the party drew on, Kyle was shown off to Kenny’s family (who were overly interested in his profession), had a lovely conversation with Butters’s aunts, and learned that Bebe was unfortunately unable to attend, but had some very exciting news to share with her best friend (Butters) shortly.

“Oh, my god, she’s pregnant!” Butters gasped loudly after receiving a text message. Kyle supposed that shortly meant immediately, but felt a swell of happiness for his old friend nonetheless. “My beautiful Bebe is having a baby!”

Kyle instinctually stowed his gaze to Clyde, who appeared to be unaffected to his surprise. Seeming to take notice of Kyle’s intentions, Clyde granted him verbal reassurance, “We broke up, like, halfway through junior year of college. I had dropped out, she was in a better school, it just didn’t make sense anymore.”

“Or you freaked out because you couldn’t see her every day and you didn’t trust her or anyone around her.” Craig provided the fact check, albeit unnecessarily. 

After a swig of beer, Clyde shrugged, “Whatever, I was stupid back then. But, David’s a good guy, I’m happy for her. Plus, I’m seeing someone, just got a new job. All’s well.”

Kyle perked his head in intrigue, “What are you doing now?”

“Actually, Eric gave me a job running one of his Jimmy John’s,” Clyde answered, gesturing to Eric, who was mingling in the other room. “I’m gonna be the general manager.”

Kyle cocked an eyebrow, “Really? Right off the bat?”

Clyde nodded, “Hell yeah, man. I have to go to something called Jimmy College, but it pays fifteen an hour and is supposed to be super easy.”

Kyle held back his thoughts of the exceedingly low pay for a general manager, but congratulated him nonetheless before moving on to attempting to coax a conversation out of Craig. “What about you? How’s the job? Seeing any guys?”

“I do photoshoots for people and I’m not seeing anybody.” Craig replied simply.

Kyle nodded, questioning, “You’re not seeing Tweek at all?”

“No,” Craig answered, though Kyle detected the smallest grin daring to stretch his lips.

“Okay, then,” he hummed in a knowing tone.

Craig shot back, “Are you seeing Cartman?”

The redhead narrowed his eyes at the tall man, “Touché,”

Feeling nosy, Kyle mingled his way back into the kitchen, where Tweek could be found engrossed in a conversation with Butters and Kenny’s younger sister. He poured himself a drink before claiming a spot beside Butters, listening to Tweek describe something without any context, “So then the kids run out of my classroom with the paint, and next thing I know I’m on my hands and knees with them for two hours cleaning up red and blue goop in the hallway! My boss was furious!”

Karen puffed a laughed, shaking her head, “Man, I could not teach little kids because of… Well, shit like that.”

Tweek chuckled, shrugging, “They’re great most of the time!”

Kyle questioned for clarification, “You’re a teacher?”

“Yeah, I teach art for an elementary school up in Denver,” the nervous blond revealed as he pulled at a loose thread on his sweater. “Same place I did my student teaching!”

“I didn’t know there was an education aspect to your major,” Kyle admitted with a grin, “That’s really cool, though. I bet little kids love you,”

“They certainly match my energy,” Tweek agreed.

With a chuckle, Kyle glanced over his shoulder at Craig, attempting to come up with a natural way to bring up the two’s relationship. “Does Craig live up there with you?”

Tweek’s eyes went wide, “No, we aren’t together anymore!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were,” Kyle hummed, feigning for innocence.

The blond shook his head, “No, we broke up last year. He was talking to some guy named _Michael,_ ” Tweek spoke the name as if it were a sinful word.

Kyle arched his eyebrows, “He cheated on you?!”

“No!” Tweek quickly amended, “Well, I thought he did, but… It’s a long story. He just helps me with some art shows and projects I do sometimes, that’s why everyone thinks we’re still together.”

Butters chimed in, “Well, it’s also the fact that you two are absolutely still in love with each other.”

“Whatever!” Tweek groaned, finally snapping the lose thread from his shirt. “We don’t even kiss or…”

Tweek stopped himself mid-lie, earning a giddy squeal from Butters as his entire face went stop-sign red. The teasing laughter from Kyle was swiftly ceased when Butters sent him a glare, “What are you laughin’ at?! Don’t think I don’t know what’s goin’ on between you and Eric!”

“I forgot that everyone in this group tells everyone everything,” Kyle sighed, his gaze magnetically finding Eric through the archway that lead to the adjoining room. He was seemingly shouting at someone into his cell phone, his features contorted in irritation. The redhead admired the way he looked in an old, gray Denver Nuggets sweatshirt and jeans—the most informal attire he had witnessed him clad in aside from nothing but boxers since their reunion.

“Wait, what?” Karen asked for clarification, lifting an eyebrow at her sister in-law and pointing at Kyle, “ _This_ is the guy who Cartman dated?!” 

Butters nodded, Kyle also confirming with a, “Guilty,”

The younger woman let her jaw fall open, “But you’re hot!”

“Oh, Karen,” Butters waved her off as Kyle laughed at the insult-compliment. “Now, Eric and Kyle are gonna get back together real soon, you just watch.”

“Why did you break up in the first place, man?” Tweek inquired, innocently enough.

Gaze still following the subject of the conversation, Kyle noticed the warmth growing in his heart at the familiarity and contentment erupting from within him. He had missed speaking of his and Eric’s relationship, especially with the very people he was surrounded by. “I-I don’t really know,” he responded, the first time his answer to the question of why he had split off with Eric had not been full of scorn and irony. He gave his shoulders a small shrug, “Just some bullshit, I guess.”

Karen shook her head in remaining disbelief, “I just can’t picture it.”

“Kyle sure can,” Butters teased, nudging Kyle with her hip. Though the joke was lighthearted, Kyle could no longer stop picturing it.

_

“So, am I taking you home, or am I taking you _home_?” Eric questioned with a smirk, glancing over at the redhead as he snapped his seatbelt in place. He melted when Kyle’s deep, brown stare met his.

“Let’s go on a date.”

Completely caught off guard by the sudden change of heart, the brunette squinted, “A date? Where?”

“I don’t care, I just want to go on a date.” Kyle assured him.

Eric’s rapidly pounding heart did not reflect the other man’s casual nature. He frantically scanned for signs that he was playing some kind of cruel joke on him, or if he had become inebriated at Kenny’s party without his knowledge. He blurted, “Since when?!”

Kyle grinned, casting his gaze back at the McCormick household, before replying, “I don’t know… maybe always,”

Remaining perplexed at Kyle’s insinuation and dissatisfied with the cryptic response, Eric pressed, “Well, what does that mean? You know, for us?”

“I don’t really know, Eric, I just… I liked my life the way it was when I was alone and just Uncle Kyle and Stan’s gay friend, but now I know that being like… the Kyle from community college _and_ the new Kyle simultaneously is possible, I just…” he trailed off, flicking his stare back to Eric’s keen expression, his eyes mesmerized brown saucers. “I really want to be both of those people so bad,”

“Kyle, none of us are in college anymore. You don’t have to be who you were back in school to be with me or hang out with all of us. I know I sure as hell am not who I was when I went to Millville. That guy was a fucking idiot,” Eric began, doing his best to not look away and avoid the pressure of Kyle’s flawless attention, “He let you go. I definitely don’t want to be that person anymore. I want to keep getting better. But, I want to do all of that with you.”

Kyle’s chest felt heavy with gratitude and happiness. He could no longer fight the smile from stretching his heart-shaped lips, “After all this time, I’m seriously the one you want to be with? Even though I’m annoying and I get on your last nerves with all my self-righteous, holier-than-thou bullshit?”

With a pang of guilt at the realization that ‘old’ Eric was being quoted, he shot right back, “Well, I’ve learned that I don’t owe you a thing and the world doesn’t revolve around me.”

Kyle sniffled humorously, “What you said to me was _so_ much worse,”

“I know, I’m so sorry,” Eric barely finished the phrase before Kyle’s mouth was attached to his. He relaxed into the redhead’s familiar touch, though it felt even stronger after the discussion they had just had. He let his hand rest on the back of his curly head, sighing softly when they withdrew, “I was so stupid, Kyle, I’m sorry,”

Kyle pushed the soft, brown hair from Eric’s face and shook his head, “I’m sorry I left and I didn’t even give you a chance to talk about how it would affect _us_ , I just forced you to either be okay with it or not be with me anymore,”

The two drew in for another post-apology kiss, this one growing a big deeper as Kyle shifted his body to press more firmly against Eric’s, the brunette being the next to frantically admit, “Nothing you could have done would have made me okay with it, I was selfish and terrified of you leaving me because you have always been way too good to be true,”

Kyle’s disagreement was cut off by Eric’s lips, and his hands sliding into the pockets of his blue jeans. After a soft moan and a few moments longer of enjoying the warm embrace, the redhead reeled back and fixed an intent gaze on the other man’s face, his eyes flicking back at forth between Eric’s two, “I am so, so sorry I didn’t tell you how much I love you at that stupid airport.”

Eric’s breath hitched in his throat, repeated the present-tense verb, “Love?”

Though Kyle was completely certain of his remaining affection for the man by their third or fourth encounter, it continued to feel like a new development blooming within him. Rubbing the side of Eric’s face, relishing in the proximity of their bodies and the returning sense of community and joy from the night he had spent with him and their friends, he nodded his head before whispering to punctuate the sentiment, “I love you.”

“Fuck, I love you,” Eric gasped breathlessly, entirely consumed by a combination of sheer elation and relief. He squeezed his eyes shut tight as he enjoyed another long, purposeful kiss from Kyle. Heart soaring, he did his best to not ruin his high by pushing away intrusive thoughts of why he wasted five years of kissing Kyle over stupidity and pride. He inwardly vowed to never let those trivial things come between himself and what makes him truly happy ever again.

The couple repeated the over-used phrase to one another before finally deciding they had better get to shelter before they lost control and tore into one another. When they finally separated, they were deeply startled by three figures gazing in at them through Eric’s windshield. “Holy shit,” Kyle gasped, jumping ten feet out of his skin.

Kenny, Butters, and Clyde were stood right before Eric’s vehicle and began clapping and whooping when they were discovered. Becoming furious, Eric turned the key in the ignition and rolled down his window, “If you idiots don’t move I’m running you over!”

Gleefully accepting the terms, Kenny jogged to the driver’s side of the car, trailed by his wife. They both grinned into the window, Kenny resting his arm against the top of the truck. “That was pretty hot, you guys,”

Butters gave him a disapproving nudge when Kyle heard a tapping on the window behind him. He stared upward in annoyance as he let the glass barrier slide down into the door. Clyde’s face was beaming at him for a moment before he wondered aloud, “So, are you two official now?”

“None of your business, assholes, go home!” Eric exclaimed, putting his car in drive. He paused, peering out both sides of his window, “Please make sure I don’t roll over any toes, okay, you guys.”

Their ridiculous three friends took steps back before watching Eric and Kyle peel off down the road. The three exchanged pleased expressions, Kenny commenting, “This is the best birthday ever.”

“Can you go faster?” Kyle moaned, the vehicle not moving fast enough for him. “I have to pee and check my sugar and have sex with you.”

Eric smirked, arousal bubbling in his chest as he reached over to grasp Kyle’s hand. “Almost there, babe.”

“I missed you calling me that,” Kyle revealed with a smile.

“I missed _this_ ,” the brunette expanded, earning a sweet kiss on the cheek. “You may as well just move into my house now, because I’m never letting you go again.”

“You better not. Millville may have been a two-year long walk of shame, but I would never change meeting you. I just wish we hadn’t lost all that time,” Kyle frowned.

As he pulled into the driveway of his home, Eric shook his head, “Let’s not think about all of that tonight. Let’s just have some nice sex where we don’t call each other names the whole time.”

Kyle let out a joking whine, “But that’s hot,”

“You’re always hot,” Eric promised, planting a chaste kiss to Kyle’s lips before repeating. “I love you.”

Kyle hummed blissfully, “I love you, too.”

The pair barely made it inside, let alone to the bedroom, before effectively disrobing one another and consummating their reestablished relationship. Though Kyle had no idea what was in store for him ahead, he was insurmountably thankful for his impromptu decision to grab himself a cup of coffee one morning two months prior to the best night he had ever had.


End file.
